Arthur Kirkland's Problem
by HypedOnCandyForever
Summary: England suddenly gets really depressed, and Norway and Romania are forced to erase his memories and send him to a random orphanage in America so he could live happily. When they need to bring him back, they find out the horrifying truth: ARTHUR WAS ADOPTED! Usuk/Ukus
1. Chapter 1

** Read**: **I do not own Hetalia, that right belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya! I don't own anything except the story-line, and if someone's used said storyline, please tell me and I'll either give you credit or take it down, depending on your wishes!**

"You bloody git! How dare you insult the Great British Empire?" a man with blonde hair, vibrant green eyes, unusually thick eyebrows, and an english accent roared in fury.

"'uo ar' not a 'mpire anymore! 'nd 'ven if you were, what 'ind of 'mpire 'ould lose one of zhier countries?" another man, this one with shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, perfectly regular eyebrows, and a french accent shot back.

'_He has a point.'_ a voice sounded in his head. This had happened before- Arthur mainly just ignored it. It was probably a demon; he did drabble in the dark arts, after all.

England visibly winced and shrank back; that wound was still healing. So he wouldn't lose an argument to that bloody wanker, France, he stuck out his middle finger and fled, but he did so in a manner that implied him winning said argument. He pretended not to hear the profanities and sputtering behind him as he raced through his country's streets, knowing them better than the back of his hand. He cursed in a very ungentlemanly way when London started pouring rain. His apartment was only few blocks from here, and if he sprinted the entire way, he wouldn't have to wait the storm out in a shop...

He decided to do so, but by the time he made it to his apartment, he was soaking wet. Ticked off, he slid his silver key into his door's lock and turned, opened the door, and stepped inside his now-freezing apartment. He slammed the door shut with his foot, not bothering to lock it, and peeled off his clothes. He placed them in the washer and grabbed a towel. Once dried, he put his green pjs on and plopped on the couch in front of his tv, doing so dejectedly. Curse that Frog, putting him in a sour mood. Again.

'_What about the Empire remark? Doesn't France have something better to do than bug you? Like dying. I could do that for you- for a price.'_

The brit tried to focus on other things, like scone making, or the weather, but his mind kept going back to what France had said. What kind of an Empire lost one of their countries? He knew the answer: an English one.

'_America left you, too. How sad.' _Then his thoughts wandered to the American revolution.

Why _would_ America leave him? He knew it was buried past, but feelings of hurt and betrayal leaked into his heart anyway. He tried to give America anything he wanted - so why? How could he just leave him there, sobbing, in the cold dirt, with a ripped heart torn into a million pieces? It _wasn't _fair! Why? Engalnd didn't notice the tears rolling down his cheek, growing faster with each thought. He grabbed a couch cushion and squeezed it, holding it to his chest. The only reason that he was so hard on America was because he wanted what was best for him! Why couldn't America understand?

'_I knew that you were still hurt about that.' _the smug voice in his head whispered.

He fell asleep like that, with tears streaming down his saddened face, clutching the poor defenseless cushion like a life-line. But his dreams consisted of the American revolution, replaying over, and over, and over.

Engalnd slowly opened his eyes, groaning in the effort it took. A single beam of sunshine was hitting his face,angering him. His back ached because he had slept on his couch, and his muscles were cramped like none of your buisness. He rolled onto the floor, where he lied for a few moments, trying to forget his dream- '_more like a nightmare', _the british man thought.

Slowly, very slowly, he got up and went into his room to get ready for the day. There was a world meeting in London today, after all.

_At the World_ _Meeting:_

"-And that's why we should construct a giant superhero to save the world!" America practically yelled.

" I agree with America-san." Japan said.

England remained silent, even though this was where he normally put his imput on the matter. All of the contries suddenly shut up, looking at England as if expecting something. He groggilly put his head down, into his folded arms, on the table. Some countries gasped, some coughed awkwardly, and some just stared. The self- proclaimed gentleman **never** put his head down in a meeting- that was improper!

The truth was, England was still in the dumps about his dream. He just couldn't fathom the reason why America would desert him! It wasn't fair...

"Dude... are you _crying? _" America asked unbelievingly. England suddenly jolted upright and put a hand to his wet cheek. He was crying. He looked at his elbows and noticed that they were soaking wet. He hadn't been crying, he had been silently sobbing.

He stood up, well aware that all eyes were on him, and said quietly," If you'll excuse me, I need to go outside for a moment.", and he left the meeting room, ignoring America's cries to come with him. He walked slowly to the lage garden that was outside the building, holding back tears the entire way. Once he got outside, though, and into a secluded area surrounded by trees, he broke down, slumping against one of the trees and letting all his tears out. There was no reason to hold it in, right?

'_You're so weak.. But the others are worse. They didn't follow you, did they? They obviously don't care.' the voice said._

After what seemed like a few minutes, he collected himself and began to walk back to the meeting, only to realize that said meeting ended 35 minutes ago. He walked to the edge of the grass, almost into the road, and hailed a taxi.

The ride was long and quiet, and after England paid the driver, he went into his apartment on the second story and thought some more about the revolution. '_Collect yourself, you git. It was just a snarky remark that bloody Frog said to tick you off.' _ England told himself, but then came across a horrible thought: '_That Frog wanted to take care of America, also. So.. even if I didn't exist, America would still be here. And I'm the only one that seems to be affected by the Revolution. So... my life is meaningless?'_

_ 'Yup.' _the voice said.

**Sorry for the short chapter, but this idea came to me late at night so I couldn't write too much! Sorry! Please tell me if it's halfway decent, I promise it'll get better! And if it sucks, I'm sorry for that, too. It's my first written fanfic ( even i I have plenty in my mind ), and so please don't make me lose will-power! Comment~!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Read: I don't own Hetalia! That Awesome right goes to Hidekaz Himauya!**

_'No',_ England told himself sternly,'_ Your life isn't meaningless. You raised America, right? If France had raised him, America would have eaten french muck, and then he would eat even worse food than he does now.'_

_'That's not true. America would probably detest fast food had he been raised with France._' the voice said.

England had to hold back tears, telling himself,' _I'm only a burden to everyone aound me... What kind of empire loses one of their country's? An english one... So, my life is meaningless? No, your life isn't meaningless... Except it is.' _He took deep breaths, trying to calm himelf down. The Magic Trio met later that day, and he couldn't show up with tear-stained cheeks and red eyes..' _No country's life is worthless, right?' _

_ 'Wrong.'_ the voice replied. Britain ignored that.

Speaking of the meeting... England glanced at his watch. The meeting started two minutes ago. Norway and Romania were supposed to pick him up- where were they?

A hand suddenly clasped on his shoulder, making Britain jump and let out a shriek. A totally manly shriek- for manly men. He looked up warily, finding the owner of the hand to be Romania. Norway was behind him, arms crossed over his chest, looking by all means concerned. England vigorously rubbed at his eyes with his wrists, knowing that it was futile, knowing that they had seen the tears threatening to spill.

The hand on his shoulder disapeared when Romania moved it to hug him, Norway seemingly muttering under breath. England accepted the hug then lightly pushed the Romanian away, feigning concern. " You all right there, old chap?" He pretended his voice didn't crack when he said it.

"Us? What about you? You were crying in the meeting!" Romania exclaimed. Norway moved closer, now next to Romania, who was next to England on the couch.

'_So they snuck up and spyed on you? Some friends they are.'_

"Ahh! T-that. Well, y-you s-see... My al-allergi-ies wer-were acting up, s-so... I-I do apologize if I h-had you t-two worryin-ng.." England tried.

Romania looked to Norway. Norway shook his head," He's lying."

"Tell us the truth, Britain." Romania ordered sternly, now serious.

"I am! W-what ki-ind of-f gentleman w-would I be if I w-were to lie?"

"An english one." Norway replied testily.

England paled, trying with all his might to not to cry. _An english one... _

"Why were you crying?" Norway asked again.

The country of Britain stayed silent.

Norway sighed. "Engalnd, we _**know**_ that something's wrong... so either tell us..."

"Or we'll have America get it out for us." Romania finished.

England lost all of the color in his face. If he were to talk to America now, he would lose all of the respect he had."...So the problem's America." Norway concluded. The brit swallowed, his throat dry.

"England, if you don't tell us, we can't help you." Romania coaxed.

"You can't help me, anyway!"

"And why not?" Norway asked angrilly," I'm well aware that you're lying. I cast a spell on you the moment we walked through these doors- if you lie, I know. And you just lied, so we _**can**_help you! And you know it! So tell us!"

Silence. It took a moment for England to realize that he was crying, cold tears running down mercilessly. He shook his head- he _should_ be able to tell them the truth; they were his best friends!

'_Lie one more time? It'll work this time.' _the male voice announced.

"It-it's just... Nothing. I..I just c-can't tell you. Please, just leave m-me alone. You have to trust me on this..."

Romania once again looked at Norway. The Norwegian said softly," He's telling the truth." He stood up slowly and walked to the door, waving goodbye without looking back. "Meeting's cancelled for today." He left, and Romania quickly followed him, waving goodbye sadly.

'_I guess... That it's a good thing I learned how to vandalize spells.' _the voice said. '_You're welcome.'_

"Shut up." Britain said outloud.

Engalnd hadn't left the house in weeks. His food had run out, but he didn't care. His bills were over-due, but he didn't care. He felt like curling into a little ball and dying, never having to speak to anyone or do anything ever again. England had thought about killing himself to get it over with, but every time, at the last minue, he lost the will. So he opted to not replenish his food, just to see how long he would last. England, the country of Great Britain, was suicidal- and Norway knew it, even if everyone else was oblivious. One day he tried to talk to Egland, but said country denied him access to his apartment and told him to go away. So he told Romania about England's problem, and Romania went to England's apartment to try to talk to him, but he got the same treatment Norway had gotten.

Doing this was their only choice. If the two remaining members of the Magic Trio didn't do this, England would die.

Two figures cloaked in black scanned the perimeter of the apartments, begging to the Lord that England would come out, and they wouldn't have to do this. But he didn't, and they didn't have a choice. A man with platnium blonde hair and emotionless-a-first-glance eyes signaled for the other person, a man with strawberry-blonde hair and red eyes to go inside first. He did so, and Norway followed him in not even two seconds after.

Romania led the way, up to a small apartment suitable for a neat man, and stopped just outside the door. Norway moved to the other side of the door, before mouthing,' Are you ready?' to Romania. When he nodded, Norway put a sound-proof wall around the aparment- it could get loud. He nodded his head to Romania, giving him approval, and watched as he kicked the door down. Romania went in first, then himself.

Their target shot off of the couch, dull green eyes, usually so vibrant, narrowing when he saw the two men. "What the bloody Hell do you think you're doing?" he asked them, voice cracked and dry, but calm nonetheless.

"I'm sorry it came to this, England." Norway said, then quickly launched himself toward said brit and pulled a pair of handcuffs out. He strapped them to his arms behind his back before England could even compromise what was happening. Romania put the door back on with magic, then began reciting a spell that he and Norway had chosen earlier. When Norway had tied England to a chair, he joined in the spell with Romania, falling in unison with him, a red glowing ball in Romania's hands, and a blue glowing ball in Norway's.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? LET ME GO- GET OUT! HELP!" England screeched.

They finished their spell and flung said spell at England with deadly accuracy. England began changing, twisting, shrinking, and morphing into a little boy, about nine years old. "W-what did you do to me, you gits? Change me back his instant!"

Instead of following his orders, Norway and Romania started on another spell.

Ten minutes later, they were left with a sleeping english boy who had no memory and no parents.

**Finished with this chapter! As for the song on the right, I thought it was ironic that I put it with this story~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Read:** **I don't own Hetalia! That right belongs to Hidekaz Himeruya!**

** Please enjoy~!**

A little boy with messy blonde hair and bright green eyes opened said eyes sleepily. His entire body was sore, and his head throbbed.

He sat up and looked around the room; he was in a small room, on a green couch. The room had two other chairs, a tree, and some pictures on the walls. There were two red doors, both with small windows on them, each on opposite sides of the room.'_Where am I?'_

One of the doors opened, the one to his left, and two men stepped out. One of the men had strawberry-blonde hair and red eyes, and the other one had platnium-blonde hair and blue eyes. They stared at each other for a little while, the men looking guilty but trying to hide it. Then they scurried out the other door, the one leading outside, leaving the poor boy alone to wonder why they looked so familier.' _Why can't I name them? Perhaps they're just people with common faces..' _When he thought about it, he didn't have anyone to match them to. He didn't know anybody; '_But that's not possible...'_ It was possible when he didn't remember his own name. Or where he came from, or where he was, or his birthday, or **anything**.

Soon a woman came in from the door the men had come in through, with brown hair tied in a neat bun, red lipstick on her plump face, small gold earings, and sad eyes. "Hey, how are you?"

"...My head hurts." he replied, then added,"Where am I? And, if you don't mind, who are you?...Or rather, who am I?"

'_Why can't I remember?'_

The fuller-figured woman smiled, though her brown eyes betrayed her sadness. "Sweetie..." she said softly," My name is May Aglaeca, and you're in an orphanage. The people who dropped you off said that you had amnesia, and your name is Arthur Kirkland. That's why you don't know anything about yourself. I'm sorry."

"An orphanage? So I don't have any parents?"

"I'm so sorry."

The flight back to London was depressing.

"It was our only choice," Norway said, seeming to need to comfort himself as well as Romania.

"Tell that to America." Romania replied,"He's going to kill us."

Norway hesitated, then said," Then we'll die protecting our friend."

Romania had no answer to that. He did have, however, a horrible feeling that what they did wouldn't sit well with other countries."Norway?"

"Yes?"

"Let's promise to not tell anyone what we did unless it can benifit Arthur." he held up a pinky.

Norway stared at his pinky, then interlocked it with his own."I promise."

"Me, too."

Norway pulled their pinkies, then took his away. He knew that no matter what they did, unless England was with them, a lot of hurt and anger would make their way toward them because of their actions. He had told Romania everything. At least, that's what Romania thought. Something he hadn't told him? The country of Britain now doesn't have someone to take care of it.

He hoped he could manage two countries.

Romania was right. When they got back, everyone was at England's place. They had finally gotten their heads out of the clouds and realized that they hadn't seen England in a long time when he ( and Norway and Romania ) skipped a World Meeting. Since then, they had been searching for him. So when the other members of the Magic Trio came to tell the manager that England would no longer be living there, the countries went into an uproar.

"What do you mean he won't be living here anymore? Where is he?" America yelled frantically in their ear.

"'ere 's mon angleteere? 'hy is 'e not 'ere?" France had asked.

"You stupid western countries are so imature! Tell us why he is not here, and we can go get him." China ordered.

Norway and Romania stayed silent the entire time, choosing to instead finish their buisness and leave.

Later, when they were walking back to their hotel ( seperate from everyone else's for obvious reasos ) , Norway asked Romania, " Do you think that we might have just started WWlll?"

Romania couln't answer that, either. He hoped that England was happy, now, or it would all be a big waste.

Three years later, and Arthur was still hidden from the world. For his own good. The countries were now begging for Norway and Romania to let them know where England was- interogating, threatening, torture, and making their lives miserable hadn't worked. Only five people didn't hate them- Finland, Sweeden, Denmark, Iceland, and Bulgaria; but they weren't necessarily happy with them. Not to mention the country of Britain was getting worse by the month; two countries was just too much for the poor Norwegian, as hard as he tried.

But Arthur Kirkland's life was decent, as is the life of typical 12-year-old boys in America. No matter how long he had been in America, however, Arthur's accent refused to leave him; not that that was a bad thing.

12-year-old Arthur Kirkland sat on his bed, a book in his hand. His open window allowed both sunlight and a breeze to flow freely into his room at Presley's Home for Orphaned Children. He was perfectly happy, as the orphanage got a great many donations and was rich. It allowed Arthur to do any sport he wanted to try, sent him to a decent school, fed him as much as he wanted, gave him a library card, and consisted of kind staff only. If more than ten people complained about a staff member because of something serious, and not petty, they were fired. And plenty of people had heard about Presley's and often adopted from it; the orphanage had given away more than half of their children to happy families, and the building was so large that every kid got his or her own room. A few rooms were empty.

Arthur looked outside when he saw something move. It was just a black SUV, pulling into the mansion's driveway. He went back to his book when he saw a man with blonde/pink hair get out and walk up to the doorway of Presley's. Before long he heard the familliar ring of the speakers located in every room say,"Arthur Kirkland, please come down to the office to meet someone."

It was his name. That had never happened before. Arthur pushed down the excitement in his chest as he walked to the main office- was he going to get adopted? What were they like?

When he got inside the office, he closed the door as quietly as he could, then turned around slowly. It was the man from the SUV, with blonde-almost-pink hair and eyes like Arthur had never seen before; one was blue, and the other was pink. The man held a striking resemblance to Arthur, and he even had the unusually thick eyebrows. Was he somehow related to him?

"Hello, my name is Arthur. Might I inquire who you are, sir?"

The man laughed a cheery, from-the-heart laugh. "Hello, Arthur, my name is Oliver. Pleased to meet you," he held out a hand. Arthur shook it. "How about you and I go get to know each other a tad?"

Arthur Kirkland ended up getting adopted by Oliver. Oliver Kirkland.

**Sup~? I got the chapter done~ You're curious now, aren't you? That was a trick question, I know you are. Til' next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Read: I still don't own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himeruya does.**

**Sorry for skipping around in time so much, but I have a plot, and once we get where we need to be, I don't think I'll skip time quite so much!**

"Please- just give us back our Iggy!" America persisted.

The Norwegian man stayed silent, choosing to ignore him instead of waste his time trying to convince him that what they did was for the best. The other countries still didn't know exactly what Norway and Romania did, but they knew that they did something, and they wanted to know what; they couldn't have killed him without killing Oliver, and that was just about impossible! They would go to someone with magic, but everyone with it was either missing or the people who caused the others to go missing. They had tried torture, but the two members of the Magic Trio were trained to be soldiers, _and _they had magic, so forcing them to speak didn't help. At all.

America was near tears,"Why? Why won't you tell us what you did? I want Iggy back..."

Norway felt the familliar pang of guilt course through him- not like he could give in to it, of course. Soon after the torture, Norway and Romania decided to add a magic seal to their pinky promise. Now, if they wanted to tell someone, they both had to agree and break they spell in order for the truth to be told. Norway was incapable of telling him.

Then America asked a question that no one had asked before, despite it being painfully simple: "If you won't tell me, then at least tell me this- is he safe?"

Norway turned to the American, giving him the first answer anyone had gotten from them since England dissapeared, "Yes."

America's face brightened instantly, showing more joy than he had felt for the past few years combined. "Thanks," then, he left Norway's doorstep, racing off into his car to drive off and tell everyone the good news.

Norway turned around, wanting to sleep, but having to figure out how to solve England's current crisis; the country of England had gotten progressivly worse after they had sent Arthur to the orphanage, and, though Norway was trying his absolute hardest to run it the way Arthur would have, running two countries was enough to drain someone even if they had magic.

Norway went into his room, where he gathered his country's finished paperwork and set it in a drawer, just in case a breeze blew past the open window and scattered said papers. Then, he grabbed England's work and started to fill that out.

He worked on that until he passed out, still sitting at his desk, England's almost-finished paperwork in his hand.

Romania slid through the open window, into Norway's room. He would have went through the front door, but no doubt the other Nordics would turn him away- they did it everytime he came by and Norway wasn't the one to answer the door.

_' It was a good thing I decided to do that, too'_, he noted when he saw Norway's sleeping figure laying over England's paperwork. '_No way they would let me in if Norway was asleep- but this is important.' _

Romania stood next to Norway, gently shaking him awake. "Hmmm..?" Norway asked when his eyes slid open. He saw Romania and jolted up, then relaxed and said, "Why didn't the others wake me up and tell me that I had a guest?"

Romania grinned sheepishly, then replied, "'Cause they may or may not know of my being here."

Norway quirked an eyebrow. "So you snuck in?"

"Yup."

"That's... So like you." Norway admitted.

"Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"I don't know, what was it?"

"...Let's go with compliment." he said, then quickly continued talking before Norway could get a word in edge-wise. "Anyway, I came here because I want to help you with the paperwork. You're over-exhausting yourself, Norway! If you continue working like this, you're going to get sick, and then both of the countries you're running will fall even worse than they are, now."

Norway silently nodded, secretly happy that Romania wanted to help- now he could get some sleep!

The Romanian took the papers from Norway and ushered him into his bed; he needed sleep, and Romania could tell! He sat down at the desk, once he deemed Norway to be sleeping, and continued working on the papers left neglected. '_Wow... Norway did a lot of this stuff... I only have to fill out the last section!'_

He was on the last question when Denmark suddenly burst through the door, holding a piece of cake, somehow not waking Norway. "No~orge! I brought you some-" he stopped when he saw Romania. He dropped the cake, the plate shattering on the wood floor. How was Norway still asleep?

"What... Are you doing?" He asked, voice low and threatening.

Romania froze, unsure of what to do. Denmark stalked over and grabbed the back of his shirt, begining to pull him out of Norway's room so they could talk without waking him.

"Denmark." Norway said, warning him. He was then out of bed and behind Denmark, blocking the door. "Let. Romania. Go."

"But he was in the house without our permission-"

"He had mine."

"And he was writing while you slept-"

"He was doing me a favor. Now, let. Him. Go."

Denmark let Romania go, sad that Norway cared more about him then he did his family. "Why do you care so much about him, Norge? We're just as good- your family misses you! Why do you lock yourself in your room for days at a time? We don't approve of what you did to England, but we don't hate you!"

Norway sighed. "Denmark, I don't hate you guys. I'm just too busy with paperwork to hang out." Norway's gaze hardened, "And I care about Romania because he's my friend! Now good-bye!" He pushed Denmark out the door, then shut said door.

While Romania stared at him, astonished that he could control Denmark, Norway rubbed the brink of his nose and said, "Maybe I could spend the night at your house? I don't want to deal with this bull-crap right now. I need a break."

Romania snapped out of his shock, "Sure, stay as long as you want. Should we go now?"

"Yes." He replied, and then they dissapeared, teleporting to Romania's house..

Arthur Kirkland sat down, tired beyond belief. His 13th birthday was tomorrow, and his party was yesterday. They (**read: he and his best pals**) had went to the ice-skating rink, and Arthur had found out the hard way that he was no good at ice-skating. After that, since it was Friday and they hadn't had school because of a student holiday, they slept over at his house and stayed up until almost 3 am. His friends had just left, and it was 4pm.

He closed his eyes tiredly. When he opened them, Oliver was nose- to- nose with him. He jumped and let out a yelp, but it was a manly yelp. For manly-men.

Oliver smiled, like the creepy big-brother/guardian-figure he was. But Arthur loved him like family, even if he _was_ adopted. "So sorry, did I scare you?" he asked with his thick british accent. Neither of their accents seemed to want to go away; it was like they were cursed to forever be asked if they just moved to America. They had been here most of their lives! ( Well, Arthur had.)

"Scared?" Arthur asked unbelievingly, "Who? Me? No, I wasn't scared. You simply startled me, that's all, with your creepy ways of appearing right before my eyes. I swear, it's like you have magic!"

"Maybe I do." Oliver replied.

"That would be interesting, wouldn't it?"

"Certainly."

"So, did you need me? I mean, you were in front of me."

"Actually, yes I do. Answer this question: what would you like to do on your birthday, just the two of us, hmm?"

Arthur pondered that question, thinking of possibilities._ 'We could go get tea and spend the day roaming the outside shopping mall. Or, we could stay at home and read. Maybe we could go to a resuraunt?'_

"How about we go get some tea and walk around the outside shopping mall down by Bluebell Drive?" Arthur suggested.

"Splendid idea, Arthur! The mall it is!"

Arthur smiled, bushy eyebrows rising in happiness. Oliver smiled back.

Three years later, the country of England was so bad that Norway and Romania had to give in. England had to come back.

** Yay! Another chapter is completed~! Comment!**


	5. Chapter 5

** Read: I do not own Hetalia, that belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I don't own anything except the story!**

The World Meeting was quiet for the umpteenth time since Norway and Romania sent England away six years ago. Glares were sent to the members of the Magic Trio by most people- most people except America. He was still happy that Norway had told him that England was alive and safe. He had spread the news, so the glares' heat was turned down, but they were still glares nonetheless.

But they wouldn't be quiet for long. Why? Because Norway and Romania had made a decision. They had broken the spell preventing them from telling anyone what happened to England last night, when they were preparing for the meeting.

When the last person had finished presening, Norway and Romania stood up and said loudly, before anyone could leave, "Everyone, we have made a decision regarding England."

Anyone that was standing sat down quickly, listening intently. Norway continued, "The country of Britain has been getting progressivly worse, despite Romania and me trying our hardest to run it the way Britain would."

Some countries snorted.

Romania picked up where Norway left off. "So, in order to prevent total chaos in the country, we want to try to bring England back." Cheers and stares of disbelief filled the room, only to be silenced by the next statement: "But there's a problem."

Norway started again, "The _reason_ we did what we did to England was because he was suicidal." Total silence. "He had become so depressed that we had no choice. Either use magic to fix him or let him die."

"So we erased his memories, turned him into a little boy, and sent him to an orphanage in America, where he could grow up happily." Romania took over. "But obviously, that can't work anymore."

A country raised their hand. "Did you even think about what the consequences would be?" I was Romano.

"What would you have done if it was Spain? Let him die, or give him a chance at a better life?" Norway asked harshly. His defensive barrier was officially up.

Romano shut up, but another country raised their hand. It was Finland. "I understand why you did what you did, but what if he had aged like a country instead of a human boy?"

"We cast a spell on him preventing him from aging unlike a normal human." Romania answered.

"Why was he so depressed?" Canada asked.

"I don't know who that was, but we believe him to have been depressed because he thought he was worthless." Romania said.

"But what if he was adopted?" a random country asked.

"We have to hope he wasn't." Norway and Romania said in unison. Then just Norway spoke, "We leave to the orphange later today."

"I'm coming with you!" America shouted. Some other countries tried to come as well, but Norway shook his head 'no'.

"We're going alone."

"He was adopted." Norway said to his luggage. Romania was behind him, crossing his arms. America jumped out of said luggage, where he had been hiding, yelling, "What? No! By who? Who adopted my Iggy?"

"They couldn't give us that information for the safety of Arthur." Norway replied.

"Arthur?" America asked.

"We put him into the system under the alias 'Arthur Kirkland'. He needed to come off as human." Romania filled in the confused American.

"So we don't know who has him? What if it's someone bad? Iggy could be hurt! What if one of our enemies figured out who he is and adopted him, just so they could kill him! He could be undergoing torture right now! He might be living with a killer!"

"Oliver, I'm back from school!"

Oliver cursed, hand on the bloody knife that was carving into a now-mangled dead body. "Okay, I'm slightly busy right now, poppet, so could you be a dear and go upstairs for a moment?" He called out in a sweet voice.

"Sure, Oliver." Arthur said. Oliver didn't relax until he heard Arthur's door shut and music turn on.

He quickly stabbed the bloody, bleeding body one last time in the heart, then got up. He looked at the clock- it was already 4:00. How did he ever lose track of time? If he slipped up again, Arthur might catch him- that wouldn't be good. Who ever heard of it? Oliver had, for his love of the boy, put his killing schedule in only the hours that Arthur wasn't home, and made cupcakes that weren't poisoned ( Only for Arthur and his friends, or when Arthur was around. ). He didn't want to frighten his 1p off, did he?

He really did feel like an older brother to Arthur; as a matter of fact, all the 2ps felt like older brothers to their 1p. They just acted like it, too, and that tended to scare off the 1ps. It didn't help that the 2ps were, by nature, darker people who enjoyed killing things. Oliver sighed.

His game had come to an end. At least he had killed the man before Arthur came in- having someone scream and cry out in pain would have given everything away. He looked around his room, neat and orderly, save for the puddle of blood that surrounded him. He would have to clean this up, as well as think of an excuse for Arthur to have had to go upstairs. It was December- Christmas presents, maybe?

He took off his shoes, so he wouldn't track the blood, and went over to his door and locked it. He made sure the window was locked, and the curtains were shut tightly, before going into his bathroom and preparing a hot shower. He'd need another one after he finished cleaning up the mess, but this one was for his nerves. And his head-ache.

**Sorry this one's so short, but I figured that here was a good place to leave off! Add to your library, comment with positive stuff, watch Hetalia, and eat iiiiiiiicccccccceeeeeee-creeeaaaammmm!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Read: I do not own Hetalia! That right belongs to the one and only Hidekaz Himaruya! Also, read the message at the bottom when you finish the chapter, and you get a virtual hug.**

15-year-old Arthur Kirkland turned off his music, slightly worried, and went to the stairs. He called down said stairs, "Oliver? Are you done yet?"

Silence.

Arthur relaxed when he heard the shower. '_He's just taking a bath. Today was probably stressful.'_

He went back to his room, resuming the loud japanese music- Arthur didn't even remember the last time he chose to listen to music in English; japanese was just so much better! He plopped down on his bed, the one that was once carefully made, and stared at the ceiling, inspecting every groove and shadow. His stomach growled, reminding him just how hungry he was. He looked at the clock; it was 6:05, and that meant that dinner wouldn't be ready for another 55 minutes. He wouldn't last that long.

He got up and walked to the mini-fridge in the corner of his room next to his window, and opened it, pulling a soda out. He began drinking said soda, and, with nothing else to do, opened the window to let a cool breeze in. Who cares if the neighbors didn't like his loud music- certainly not Arthur. If anything' he was so bored he wanteed to get yelled at; he turned up his music.

Oliver sighed, in his second shower for the day. Arthur had turned up his music again. He had finished disposing of the mess, and was quite enjoying the hot water, but if he let the music stay on for too long, the neighbors would get upset, and if he killed another person who had complained about them, the police might get suspicious. He had already done that twice.

He stepped out of the shower, turning off the water.

A knock on his door made Arthur set his soda down and yell, "Come in!", over the blare of the music.

Oliver opened the door and stepped in. "Arthur, dearest, could you turn that down a smidge?"

"Could you repeat that?"

"Can you turn your music down a tad?"Oliver said louder.

"What?"

Oliver pointed to the radio.

"Oh. Sorry." Arthur turned the radio off. "Did you need anything else?"

"No, that' it. Thank you." he left the room, going back down the stairs and, to what Arthur assumed, his bedroom. He continued drinking his pop.

"What will we do, aru?" China exclaimed.

"We have to get him back, da?" Russia grinned.

"Ja, I understand zhat ve need to get vim back, but ve vannot send all ze countries on a search and rescue mission. Zhat would send ze world in a panic!" Germany shouted, trying to calm everyone down. Noway had told them the news. "Ve vill send three people to search for him per month, trading off on ze first dy ov a new month. Ze first people to go vill be Norway, America, und me."

"Not gonna happen! I'm helping, too!" Romania called out.

"Nein, vou vill only get in ze way. Besides," he added on a softer note when he saw Romania's crest-fallen face, "you have a country to run."

"But I've managed to work it out so far..."

"Ja, but you've been over-vorking yourselv. Take zis month to just run your country- I promise you'll be on next month."

"Okay..." Romania backed off.

"Anyway," Germany continued, "ve vill leave as zoon az ze meetin uz over. If your name vas called, meet me at America's jet- ve are going to ze U.S.A."

They had started in Texas, searching every home, going from city to city. They could only get two cities done before the next month came, despite them working as fast as possible. The two cities had been relatively small, too. This was going to take years.

"But I can go again! I can find him- I know it! Let me go this month, too! Please?" America begged Germany.

"Nein! Zou vill _not_ over-exert yourselv!" Germany snapped. America had been asking all day.

"Then I'll just do it anyway!" America yelled, then ran away as fast as he could, "I'm America! In my country, you're free! I'll just search for him anyway if you try to stop me! I _will _find my Iggy!"

Germany growled from the back of his throat. America was right- he couldn't stop him, only offer his opinion on the matter. If America wanted to kill himself by working too much, he could go right ahead; Germany didn't care!

America sneezed, his weary limbs begging to get some rest; but he had to save England, like the hero he is. He had been looking for him, month-after-month, for an entire year, visiting almost every city in America. So far, he had done the eastern part of the country, all the way to Minnesota, and the other countries had done the southern part of the U.S. of A., all the way until Nevada. But no one had found him yet. America knew that his economy was plummeting because of his lack of care towards his country, but right now, all that he wanted was to find his friend.

He was now in Wisconson, the state being cold-as-all-get-out, hoping to catch a glimpse of his fomer boss. He turned a corner and went on Okiokio Lane, and he would have been laughing at the stupid street name had he not been so depressed. His next group of houses belonged to the neighborhood called, '_Magic'_.

America chuckled bitterly. "That sounds like the kind of place England _would_ live in. Too bad I know how futile this is going to be. Might as well get it over with."

He trudged through the thickly-falling snow, huddling close to his jacket. He knocked on each door three times, knowing that if even one of the people in this neighborhood was gone that he would have to come back. He had only had everyone in their houses once before, and that sweep was the quickest ever done.

Eventually, he got to a house, 1740 Mage's Staff Drive, and stopped. He was going to go up to the door, but said front door was wide open, and two people were walking toward a black SUV. America didn't pay much heed to the adult, but standing next to him, in a punk outfit that was definitely familliar, was England.

Punk, sixteen-year-old-looking England.

**PLEASE READ, VERY IMPORTANT: I'd like to thank Hetalia_ChibiAmerica for helping me write this, as well as her sister, and my friend, Chibi_Canada! Thanks, guys! As for the important part, I want you all to check out Hetalia_ChibiAmerica 's story, called 'Journey to Nyotalia', because it's awesome. Also check out Chibi_Canada 's stories, okay? Seriously. These be my real-life besties. Sorry for lying to you about the importance of this message, but it was necessary. I wanted you to know. SQUEEE~**


	7. Chapter 7

**I don't own Hetalia, or any of the characters I use. That right belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I also don't own the picture for this story- this right belongs to someone I don't know. If this picture is yours, I'll give you personal credit!**

** Recap: Punk, 16-year-old-looking England.**

America wanted to jump out and cry in Arthur's shoulder, but he forced himself crouch on the side of the house, out of sight, and think things through. He couldn't just take Arthur away from his adopted parents without teling them; that would be kidnapping and that would be illegal. Heroes don't do illegal. But at that moment, America wanted to foget about being a hero and just go to his former boss.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to control himself much longer, so he came up with a plan; he would call Germany, get back-up, and explain the situation to England's adopted parents. Worst case scenario, they were forced to wait until Arthur was 18 until they did the spell.

He watched, barely able to control himself, as the black SUV containing England pulled out of the drive-way and left, driving down the road and turning a corner. He pulled out his phone and called Germany. He answered on the first ring.

"Ja?"

"Germany?" America sucked in a tight breath. "I found him. England."

Germany paused, obviously hearing the strain in America's voice. "Vou did good contacting me before making a move. Vhere are vou?"

"1740 Mage's Staff Drive." America ground out through gritted teeth.

"Okay. Ve vill be there as zoon as possible. But, America..."

"_What?_" he snapped.

"I vunderstand vhat zis means to vou. I... I vould veel ze same vay if Italy vere to go missing. But vou can **_not_** act rashly. If vou do somevhing, even someving as small as letting Arthur see vou-"

"It's _England._ His name is not Arthur." America growled.

"...Okay, letting_ England_ zee vou, vou could und probaly vould do more harm zhan good. Do **_NOT_**makea move until I get zhere." he hung up.

America felt pressure build up in him. He was the one that cared the most, by far. When England had left, he couldn't sleep for weeks. The other countries eventually had to fight him, trying to put a sedative in him so his body wouldn't give out. He was creaming them; the only reason they had won was because he was weakened and he didn't see Canada sneak up on him. He punched the ground, creating an arm-sized hole in said ground. As if on cue, the skies decided to let rain fall freely then, drenching America in a matter of seconds; the weather was tied to his mood, after all. Lightning and thunder rolled louder than ever before, pounding in America's ears, leaving ringing afterwords.

He managed to control himself, bottling everything up like usual. He forced a grin, as he had been doing since England left, and sat down on the porch of Arthur's house. He laughed, but it was in pity for himself rather than joy.

He was looking at the drive-way's pavement, when all of a sudden, a black SUV pulled in. '_Shit!'_ America thought, then rolled over into the bushes in the garden right in front of the house. It was the only hiding spot he could get to without getting caught. Someone stepped out of the car and walked quickly to the door. Said person opened the door to the house and walked in, not bothering to shut it.

The person had blonde/pink hair and eyebrows like England's, as well as oddly vibrant eyes and clothes, both of which consisted of the colors blue and pink. America thought about it for a second, that person seeming so familliar, then felt fear roll into his stomach when he finally realized who it was.

It was Oliver, England's 2p.

While Oliver was in the house, America chose to disobey Germany, getting up and sprinting to the door. He got in, shut the dor, and locked it- having neighbors interfere wouldn't be good.

He took two steps from the door, pulled his gun from his jacket, and guarded the door, waiting for Oliver to come back so they could discuss England's custody. If worst came to worst, he needed protection from the blood-thirsty killer.

While he was thinking about how he would win if he went up against Oliver, he was completely oblivious to said man coming around the bend in the room next to him and freezing, then dropping his stuff and whiping a knife, at least seven inches long, out of _nowhere. _"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly.

America jumped, not expecting him, and fired off a shot by accident. The bullet hit the floor, and Oliver used America's surprise to knock the gun from his hand, sending it flying to the other side of the room. America quickly snapped out of it, though, and whipped around- only to come within centimeters of a long, jagged knife. America slowly raised his hands into the universal '_I-surrender' _sign.

"Dude, put the knife away. I came to talk peacefully with you. It's important."

"With a gun?" he asked, as casually as if he was asking the time.

"You're dangerous." America chuckled, but his face showed no emotion. Unless un-amusement was an expression.

"So true. Yet you trespassed onto my property, anyway. Why is that?"

America paused. "I came to discuss something of up-most importance, but I must ask you to get rid of the knife."

"That isn't happening, poppet."

"Then will you at least move it? I don't want to talk feeling like you're going to jab me through."

Oliver kept the point trained on America's throat, seeming to have no intention of moving it anytime soon. He was about to answer, when all of a sudden, "Oliver?"

It was Arthur.

Arthur watched, patiently waiting, as Oliver got out of the car and went in to get his forgotten wallet. They were going to go eat, but, as stated earlier, Oliver forgot his wallet. He looked down for a moment, and looked back up as it started raining. He stared at the rain for a moment, then occupied himself with texting one of his friends. When he glanced out the window to see if Oliver was back, he saw something much more interesing: a blurry silhouette walking into his house, shutting the door. He hadn't seen the details, because it was raining, and the figure was speed-walking in shadow, but he knew something was up.

He ignored it in favor of continuing to text his friend, but soon after a gun shot echoed through his ears. He told the friend that he needed to go, then pulled out the gun secretly located in a secret compartment on the car door. Oliver had showed it to him when he was 13. He loaded the gun, then switched the safety off. He got out of the car, slowly walking up the driveway. When he reached the door, he began turning the knob, finding it locked.

He pulled out his key and unlocked it quietly, but only pushed the door open so that he could see a crack through it. He could spy his living room, but no one was there; '_They must be behind the door, in front of the stairs.' _he concluded. But before he could push the door open all the way, he heard an intersting conversation, or at least part of one:

"That isn't happening, poppet." Oliver's voice.

"Then will you at least move it? I don't want to talk feeling like you're going to jab me through."

"Oliver?" he called out, still not fully opening the door.

** Hi! Those of you that decide to be awesome like Prussia and comment get virtual huggles! Unless I know you in real life. Those of you that I know in real life get actual huggles. Unless you're Hetalia_ChibiAmerica, in which case you don't let me hug you. (Talking about the tent.) So you get none! But still comment.**

**Awesome**


	8. Chapter 8

**You know the drill. I don't own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does. I also don't have music... I'm going to fix tht, and then I'll continue writing this story.**

** *Cue elevetor music***

**Re-cap: "Oliver?" Arthur asked, still not fully opening the door.**

America froze, unsure of what to do. Oliver cussed under his breath, immediately hiding his knife and grabbing America, eyes _daring_ him to speak. He shoved him into the nearest room, which just so happened to be his, and shut the door.

"Yes, poppet?" he asked, turning towards the door.

Arthur opened the door completely now, facing Oliver, worry evident on his face. Oliver noted the black gun in his arms, pointed at the floor. "Oliver, is someone in here? I heard voices... And a gunshot."

"Maybe one of your imaginary friends?" Oliver asked, not missing a beat.

"...Possibly." Arthur hesitated, then added, "But I could have sworn that I heard your voice.. Also, none of my friends are in the room."

Oliver held up his phone innocently, "I actually just got off. My boss wanted me to come in in an hour. I apologize for worrying you."

"Okay... Hey Oliver?"

"Yes?"

"One of my friends wanted to meet me somewhere. Could I go there instead of going out to eat with you? She wanted to meet me at the mall."

"Of course." he handed Arthur a wad of money. "Have fun."

"Thanks, I will." he handed the gun to Oliver, then left, only to pause half-way in the doorway. "Don't forget to turn off the car." Then he was gone.

Oliver watched as he left, feeling like something was wrong. He was forced to shrug it off when America pounded on his door. He went outside, strolling slowly, and turned off the car. He placed the gun back in it's secret hold, then shut the door and walked back to his living room. America was now in front of his tellivision, holding his gun.

The 2p glared daggers at him. "This had better be woth my time."

"It is."

He gestured to his table, in his dining room. "Then sit, and let's talk."

America sat down, if only because Oliver sat down first. He didn't trust him, not in the least, but this was more important than him being comfortable. "Eight years ago," he began, "England got depressed for some unconfirmed reason. He had gotten so bad that Norway and Romania, two... _close_ friends of his, decided to take it upon themselves to help. They used a powerful spell, turning him into a child and erasing his memories. They sent him to an orphange." America's face scrunched up on the word _close._

Oliver nodded, showing his understanding. America continued. "They didn't tell anyone what they did, undergoing even torture without admitting what happened. When they did finally tell us, it was because they chose to of their own free will. They said that they had told us only because if they didn't tell, and get England back, his country would be destroyed. My question is, did Arthur get affected by this factor at all?"

Oliver didn't need to think about it. "Yes, he did. When he was in the orphanage, records said he was often sick and was relatively weak; I noticed this as soon as I saw him. When I adopted him, I secretly cast a spell over him, while he was sleeping, detaching him from the physical ties to his country. Now he's healthy."

"I see. Okay. So, can we get custody of Britian?"

"No."

"Why not? If the country of Britain is faltering, isn't it dangerous to keep him?" America knew that his voice was rising.

"Yes, it is, but isn't it even more dangerous to let him go run a country? If he were to get depresed again, it wouldn't be good. For Arthur _and_ for England. For another thin-"

"I'll look after him! He used to be my brother, I know what to do to make him comfortable!"

"Then why didn't you?" Oliver asked coldly.

America winced. He hadn't known... As if Oliver was reading his thoughts, he said, "My point. You can't read the mood. My 1p could be slowly dying, and you wouldn't be able to read the mood. You'd still be there, gauging yourself until we died. And then? **_Then you wouldn't get him back._**"

"B-but..." America ignored the feeling of guilt crawling in his chest. He found strength from somewhere, then, and spoke with defiance: "_No. _No, I wouldn't! The only reason I didn't know was because he shut himself away from the world!"

"And if he did that again?"

"He won't. Because I'll take him in my house and look after him."

Secretly, Oliver was amused by how hard he was trying; but his 1p was more important than him trying. "Okay, but for one more thing, how do you intend on getting Arthur to run England?"

"We'll get Norway and Romania to undo the spell they did on him."

Oliver grinned coldly. "And if, for the sake of arguing, they messed up? Or _couldn't?"_

America grimmaced. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, it's nothing much... Really, if you do this, it'd be best for me. But, if Arthur will be happy with me doing this, I'll tell you your mistakes. First up: when Norway and Romania cast the spell on England, they made the spell a special way. I could tell when I put my spell on him, the one untieing him from the physical bonds of being the personification of a country, that the spell put on him was very large. The rules of this spell, and I assume that they didn't know this when they cast it over him, consist of not letting anyone except the person the spell is cast over undo it, under the consequences of, if someone else does it, the person under the curse could get severly hurt. One thing that's for certain is that, at minimum, Arthur would lose his memories for good."

America seemed to shrink down into his chair. "What else?"

"Rule number two: forcing the person under the spell to undo the spell, and this includes tricking them, will kill them."

"Und vhat do vou suggest ve do to solve zhis?" a voice asked suddenly. America spun around and looked at the source: Germany, behind him the rest of the Allies and the Axis, was standing in the doorway, looking by all means _pissed._

"I thought you told him not to make a move, aru! Oh, well, since western countries are immature and I am above them, I will overlook this one, aru. Just fill us in, aru." China piped up.

"Da, we have more pressing matters to attend to." Russia smiled his signature smile.

"Ve vill discuss zhis later, America. Now fill us in." Germany said.

"So you guys should get close to him, and break the news slowly, once he trusts you. But you have to be very presice in your movements- he won't be your friend willingly. You know how much he dislikes you." Oliver said, after they had told the others their conversation so far.

"I have a sorution to this probrem." Japan said suddenly. All eyes looked to him. "Werr, you see, there's this place carred 'Guaken AU'. I've been thinking about buirding it, so we courd attend schoor and get to know what it feers rike to be part of this generation' society. If we were to buird it, we courd admit Arthur-san into it, and we courd arr pose as high-schoor students. If arr goes werr, we can get crose to him, and since no human wirr be there, either way he wirr become friends with some country. After a whire, we wourd ese him into the truth, and he wourd do the sperr wirringry."

Murmers of agreement and approval echoed through-out the group. Then France spoke.

"Oui, but 'ow 'ould 'e build zis 'Gauken AU' place? Zhere are 'lmost 200 countriez! Zhis 'lace would 'ave to be 'ompleted in a 'onth, when school 'tarts, or we 'ill 'ave to wait until 'e is in 'is senoir 'ear! Zhat will 'ot be 'nough time 'o get close to 'im!"

"Don't worry, aru! If Amrerica could give me a large patch of land, my people could build it, aru! We'd be done in minues, aru! Also, is this school a dormetory, aru?" China asked.

"It wirr have to be. If Arthur-san's friends came to visit often, he wourd not have a reason to befriend us. He wourd arready have some peopre to tark to." Japan answered. Oliver agreed.

"He _is_ rather popular at his school. He would have no trouble getting through school alone, if his friend's were to stop by just about everyday, like I imagine they would if he were to transfer." the 2p informed everyone.

"Okay, so the school grounds need to be in another city!" America cheered. "China, I'll give you a place to build it later. Oliver, you need to tell Arthur that he was admitted into a very rich high- school. You need to sugar-coat it so he'll want to come, 'm'kay?"

"I understand. I'll let you guys plan this out, but I expect that Arthur will be here soon. One last thing, before you leave: I want to know who will be sharing Arthur's dorm with him." Oliver's eyes were deadly.

"I'll do it, so I can protect him, like the hero I am!" America offered first- and loudest, might I add.

Oliver seemed to gather a releived expression. Then it shifted to cold, again.

"Okay, so let's go to McDonald's to further discuss this!" America crowed.

Groans were heard, and ignored, as everyone filed out the door, waving good-bye. America was last in line, and, right as he was exiting, Oliver grabbed his sleeve. "America? Know that Arthur is a hormonal teen. If you take advantage of him, or hurt him, feelings or otherwise, I will make you suffer. Take care of him, and know that I'll be checking up every once and a while! Ta-ta~!"

He shoved him out the door and locked said door. Once he heard the car that the others came in pull out and drive away, he rested his back against the door and sighed. '_I wonder how Arthur is going to take this...'_ he thought, '_When it's a month from when school starts and he already had plans for the year.'_

He hadn't told them that he knew the reason why England had gotten so depressed. He had figured it out when the school covered a certain topic in world history, and Arthur had come home crying. They were talking about the American Revoultion.

**Comment, vote, add, and be awesome! Much wuvs to you all!**

** ~Awesome**


	9. Chapter 9

**I don't own Hetalia! Because Hidekaz Himaruya does! *Cries* But yeah! Another chapter is up... Not that anyone's acually going to see this, because for some reason no one wants to click on my story... *Cries some more* Oh, well.** I'll** just have to hope that it gets more popular as I continue~!**

"It is complete, aru!" China exclaimed.

"Yay!" the other countries cheered. The Allies and the Axis had informed everyone of their plan, and told them not to interfere. School at Gauken AU started in a week, and Oliver was supposed to bring Arthur up in an hour. America had managed to get everyone situated in their dorms, and now the only one empty was room 123, and even that was only half-empty. America sat in said room when the clock rung 8:00 am, laying on his bed boredly. His roomate didn't come for another _hour!_

What would he do until then?

He felt his phone buzz, and pulled it out. It was Oliver.

"Hello?" he asked, trying to ignore the fear building in his stomach.

"Amer- Alfred? Someone rammed my car, and I have to wait for the police to get here and sort things out. Can you come pick Arthur up?" he sounded ready to kill someone.

"Sure, I'll come right away. I'll be there in a few." he hung up, hoping that Oliver didn't kill the poor soul that wrecked his car. He grabbed his keys and ran out of the dormetory, not stopping until he was in his car. He slid the keys into the ignition and pulled out of the driveway, grinning broadly. He was going to see his Iggy- and talk to him! After nearly a decade of waiting, he was going to be with England!

He sped the entire way, by some miracle a cop didn't pull him over and give him a speeding ticket. When he got there, he saw three figures, and two totalled cars. He winced; those were unscavengable. He pulled up, and tried to get out of the car, only to have his door shut before it could fully open. Oliver pointed to he window. America rolled said window down.

"Arthur is feeling emotional, today. I'm just warning you." then he walked off, and America's car's back seat was opened. Two lage suit-cases were put neatly in the floorboards, and then the door was shut. The passenger's seat was the next to open, revealing Arthur.

He looked young, but not much younger than he normally looked. He was definitely a little taller, still not nearly as tall as Alfred, but taller nonetheless. He was wearing all black; black skinny jeans, a long sleeved shirt that had a large v-neck that was wide enough for America to see his collar-bone, and boots. He still had his bushy eyebrows, and a permanent frown on his face. His bright green eyes were narrowed, glaring daggers at anything and everything, including America.

"Hi! I'm Alfred!" America and the other countries had decided to give evryone a human name, to demolish any suspicion piled against they calling each other by a country.

"Hello, Alfred." Arthur replied curtly. He shut the car door and put his seat belt on. He looked out the window, scooting as close to the door as possible.

America frowned. He wanted to run his hands through Arthur's hair and hug him, to prove to himself that, after nearly a decade of waiting, this wasn't a trick, and that England _was_ really in the car with him, but Arthur seemed content to avoid him altogether. Oliver did say that Arthur was moody... Maybe he'd loosen up once he got to know him.

"So," Alfred started, trying to make a conversation, "I hear that you're my roommate."

Arthur cringed. He studied Alfred through the corner of his eye, seeming to debate on the way his life would end- silent, so he didn't go to jail, or bloody, so he could make his point across to other people? He started smirking._ 'What's he thinking?' _the USA wondered.

Slightly unnerved, Alfred continued, "There are a lot of wierd people at Gauken, one from every country, I think, but I'll protect you, like the hero I a-"

"Don't talk about heroes." Arthur cut him off, glare penetrating his soul.

The loud american seemed to cower in disbelief. "Why not?" he whinned, "Heroes are awe-"

"Shut up!"

America did so, wondering why he was so touchy on the subject. Did something happen to him?

When they got to Gauken AU, Alfred tried to carry Arthur's luggage to his room, but the brit had absolutely refused to let him; _'I'm a sixteen-year-old man! I can carry my own bloody luggage!'_ Arthur thought angrily as he snatched it from him.

He followed America to their dorm room, number 123, on the way getting even angrier. Everyone they passed stared- _openly_, too! Haven't they ever seen a brit before? He was just about to tell them to 'bugger off' when America suddenly shouted, "We're here!", and unlocked a door.

The room was a decent sized room, and Alfred's stuff was neat and orderly. Everything he owned was on the side of the room closest to the wall where the door was, and a bed, dresser, bookcase, lamp, and random world map lay untouched on the side of the room closest to the window overlooking a garden. Arthur forced himself not to smile- he liked windows. He set his stuff on the empty bed and turned to Alfred, somehow managing to fake a smile and sweet voice, "If you don't mind, I would like some privacy. Could you leave and come back in two hours?"

Alfred didn't like that idea, but he knew that first impressions were ideal for making friends, so he obliged. "Sure, dude."

Arthur scowled at being called 'dude', and watched as Alfred left. He waited a few moments after the door shut, then let out a sigh. '_Just keep your distance,'_ he told himself, '_And try to find someone sane in this school to be your temporary companion._' He told himself this, yet he had a sneaking suspicion that here wasn't a single person at Gauken that was mantally fit.

**Another chapter up! Tell your friends about this if you like it! And force them to read it~ The circle will ****_grow_****, dang it!**

**~Awesome**


	10. Chapter 10

**I don't own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himaruya does.**

**WARNING: France tries something, and Arthur is VERY tsundere in this chapter!**

45 minutes after Alfred left, Arthur was finished unpacking, and wanted to go explore- _without _being led around by that loud american. He walked out the door, being as quiet as possible, just in case Alfred was around. He wasn't.

Arthur walked down the corridor, hands hanging from his pockets by his thumbs, green eyes taking everything in. The large hallways were completely deserted. '_Why is everyone gone? Last time I was here, there were mobs of people...'_ Arthur wondered. Not that he minded it being empty- he hated being the center of attention.

He walked outside, past the open doors belonging to the dormitory, relishing the frigid air. While he was wondering where to go first, he remembered the garden that his window over-looked, secluded from the rest of the world by a barrier of trees. His intrest was piqued, and he wlked back to the dorms. From there, he easily found the lage garden, full of flowers and vegitables. He saw a bench, next to a rose bush. He didn't like rose bushes, he never had, for some unknown reason, but the bench looked so inviting, so he sat down, against his gut feeling.

Before long, the serenity of it all started to lull him to sleep, making his eyes droop...

When he woke up, content and calmed, three figures were arguing a little bit away. One man had shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes, another had brown hair and green eyes, and the last one had white hair, although he looked like a teenager, and red eyes. The one with green eyes suddenly pointed at him and yelled out, "Francis, Gilbert, look! He's awake!"

"Ohonhonhon, I was 'oping zhat 'e would 'ae up soon~ It's no fun if 'e's sleeping~" the one with blonde hair chuckled. '_Why am I so unnerved?'_ Arthur questioned himself. His eyes narrowed, and he tried to get up; he didn't want to stay here, anymore.

He didn't expect the blond boy's hand to reach out and push him back down.

"Oi! Don't touch me, you bloody frog!" he yelled.

"Non, I 'on't 'hink I 'ill.." he grinned, then sat down... On Arthur.

Not expecting this, either, Arthur froze. Francis' face was inches away from his own, and getting closer. Eyes half-lidded, Francis stopped, centimeters from his lips; he licked his own, then crashed their two mouths together, hands placing themselves on Arthur's thighs.

Arthur stood up, pushing Francis off of him. "What the bloody Hell? You revolting rapist! Touch me again and I'll kill you!"

Francis wiped his mouth off- saliva had trailed down his chin. He signalled to his friends; they moved in behind Arthur and grabbed his arms. Francis stood up and put a finger under Arthur's chin. "Zhat 'asn't 'ery nice..." he complained. He snatched Arthur's hands from his friends and held them up above the brit's head, pulling him up off the ground.

Arthur had to keep himself from hyperventilating- this was too simillar to the last time; he forced himself to calm down, then kicked Francis in the place where the sun doesn't shine. Francis doubled over, releasing Arthur from his grasp. He took the oppertunity to knee him in the face, then reached into his pants and gripped something cold and slick.

Arthur pulled the gun out of his pants, flipping the safety switch off and aiming it at Francis' head. "Bastard, touch me again, **_I dare_****_you_****.**"

Francis slowly rose from his feeble position, hands up. "Antonio, Gilbert, 'et over 'ere. 'e 'on't 'ant 'im to 'ill me, do 'e?"

His friends went behind him, their hands up as well. "If you _ever_ touch me again, I _will_ kill you three. Do you understand?"

They nodded their heads, terrified that England would change so much as to actually pull a gun. Before he would threaten, maybe cast a spell or two, but he would never actually try to kill them!

Arthur nodded, pleased, and began backing away, gun still pointed at Francis. Like Hell he was going to turn his back on those wankers! When he reached the dorms, no sign of the three, he flipped the safety on his gun on, then put it back, in the only place where people wouldn't ask about a buldge; skinny jeans naturally created those creases, perfect places to hide stuff! Don't judge him.

Arthur turned around, expecting to see an empty hallway because of the lack of noise. He came face-to-face with Alfred, the boy holding a burger and a soda, a dumbfounded look on his face. "Dude..." he began, "Why were you holding a gun?"

Arthur blushed, ignoring the nick-name. Did he see where he put it? Crap. He pushed past his roommate, hair covering his eyes, hoping that Alfred would just drop it.

But Alfred followed Arthur to their dorm. Once inside, he shut the door, and started asking questions, "So, why were you armed?"

"I'm not talking about it, Alfred." Arthur grumbled. He looked at the clock- how was it only 10:05?

America pouted. "Why not?"

"Because it's none of your buisness, you bloody wanker!" Arthur defended.

"And why is that? You can always tell your hero-"

"SHUT UP!" England screeched. "What is with your obsession of calling yourself a hero? You are not my hero! I literally met you three hours ago!"

Alfred seemed to want to cry. "B-but... S-so?" he grinned, the years of practice wearing off- he could fake a good mood. "I don't have to know you for very long. It's just something you... Feel. I want to protect you, Arthur!"

"Yeah? Well you've done a crappy job so far, you twit."

"But why? If you tell me, I can protect you!"

"I don't want you to protect me! Stay away from me!"

"Sorry, dude! Can't do that. What kind of hero doesn't help their damsal?"

Arthur glowered. "Call me a girl again and I will hurt you."

That night, while America was sleeping, Arthur pulled out a large book, half-full because of all the years he had written in it. He opened to a new page, pulled a pen out and wrote:

_Augest 14 , 11:08_

_Today some idiot ran into Oliver's car, and someone else had to pick me up and take me to Gauken AU. It turns out that the boy who picked me up is my new roommate. His name is Alfred, and he's very loud. He doesn't know about personal space, and he won't stop calling himself my hero! He isn't my hero- I still don't have one... Not after him... If there really were such things as heroes, one should've helped me that day, dammit! Why wouldn't they? What did I do to them? _

_...Anyway, three people tried to sexually harrass me earlier. I was forced to pull my gun out and threaten them. Luckily, no one died. I hope I don't see them again... But I probably will, since the school only has like 200 people enrolled in it. _

_ ..._

_ I'm scared. If today was my first day and someone already tried something, how long will it be until someone succeeds? Not long, if they tell everyone that I have a gun. Now everyone will know what to expect when they oppose me. _

_ Alfred tried to get me to tell him what happened, since he wasn't there, but I couldn't tell him. I'm afraid that I'm being awfully rude to everyone, but my body and voice react on their own, and they do it quite a bit quicker than my mind can. Something about Alfred reminds me of someone, and I cant quite put my toungue on it. Something he does remind me of? I don't know why, but he reminds me of the American Revolution._

Arthur stopped, painful memories flooding his mind. Why didn't an angel appear on that day? An angel, a hero, someone who had just _called the cops_, anyone? No one came. Arthur stood up and walked to the window, claustrophobia clogging his senses, giving him a head-ache.

**So yeah! Lots of cussing in this one... Sorry! But England is tsundere! And what happened all those years ago? I'm just kidding, I already know~ Comment and favorite!**

**~ Awesome**


	11. Chapter 11

**I don't own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does! Lucky bard...**

Alfred blinked awake, the room blurry. He rubbed his eyes, trying to remember where he was. He looked around the room, and it all came back to him once his eyes fell on a bundle of blankets on the bed across from him.

Britain was asleep, curled up like a small child, his Union Jack comforter only covering his upper torso. His bed was a mess, leading Alfred to the inference that he had rolled a lot during the night, and he had thrown his pillow completely off the bed. Messy blond hair, golden in the sunlight streaming down from the curtain-less window, covered his left eye, his right shut peacefully; his mouth was partially open, announcing softly that he was breathing lightly and regularly. America grinned- Arthur probably wouldn't wake up for a while.

He stood up, in only his boxers, and walked over to his ally. He brushed the hair out of Britain's face, touseling said hair affectionately. Arthur smiled in his sleep, body curling around itself even more. America blushed lightly, also smiling; he had almost forgotten what England's sincere smile looked like- he hadn't seen one in a long time... His heart couldn't stop pounding, beating so loud that Alfred was afraid it would wake Arthur.

He pulled his hand back quickly, dropping the hair he had been messing with, trying to ignore how Arthur frowned when he did so. "M'erica..." he murmered in his sleep, still frowning.

U.S.A.'s heart stopped. He wasn't suppossed to know about countries being humans! Had his subconsious called out to him? '_No,'_ he told himself sternly, '_He's probably just talking about the actual place, not me...'_

England shifted sharply, his Union Jack sheets falling off him. He was still frowning, but now it seemed more... Alfred couldn't quite remember what the word was. But he didn't like it. England twisted again, his legs uncurling themselves. '_Is Iggy having a nightmare?' _America wondered. '_Should I wake him up?'_

England twisted again, breathing becoming ragged; America decided to wake him. He grabbed Arthur's shoulders and shook them so hard that his head was rolling back and forth. Couldn't control his super-hero strength, I guess...

Britain's eyes snapped open, looking frantically around. The green orbs lingered on America for a moment, as if confused as to who he was, then narrowed when he finally did recognize him. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked venomously.

"You kept twising in your sleep! I figured that I should wake you because the hero I am doesn't let people have nightmares when he's around! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" America replied brightly.

"Well don't! It's none of your bloody buisness how I'm sleeping! And you're not my hero!" he hissed.

"Of course I'm your hero, dude! Who'll protect you when you don't have your gun and bad guys are closing in? Who'll sweep down and save you, just when you think that all hope is lost? Me!"

"Not _even_ in your dreams, tosser!"

America placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "I'm hurt, dude." He broke out snickering. "But seriously, why were you holding a gun yesterday?"

"It's none of your concern!"

"Yeah it is- I'm your hero!"

"You're not my hero!"

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not!"

"Yeah, I am."

"No, you're not!"

"Yup."

"No!"

"Dude, why are you so against me being your hero?"

"Because I don't bloody need one, you arrogant wanker!"

"Geez... Regardless, I'm here to protect you, even if you don't want me to." Alfred gave a cocky grin. Arthur fumed.

Arthur got out of bed, shoving rudely past Alfred; he grabbed a pair of random clothes and stormed into the bathroom, ignoring the pair of eyes locked on him the entire time. Once the door was slammed shut, he realized that he forgot his shower stuff at Oliver's house. "Bloody Hell!" he shouted.

America was there in an instant, throwing open the door with a confident air around him. "What's wrong- the hero is here to save you!"

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?!" he screeched, embarressed despite him being fully clothed. Alfred looked around, confused.

"Where's the danger?"

"There is none! Get out!"

"Then why were you screaming?"

"I wasn't screaming. Now get out or I'm asking for a room change!"

"Okay, okay..." he left, shutting the door behind him doubtfully. Arthur released the breath he had been holding.

"Great, just great..." he muttered, gathering his stuff. He walked out of the bathroom and threw his stuff on his bed, then turned to Alfred, teeth clenched. "Alfred?"

"Yeah?" he drawled out.

"Could I... Borrow your car to go to the store?"

"Why do you need to go to the store?" '_Nosy bastard...'_

"I forgot something that I need."

"What'd you forget? I might have an extra."

Arthur scowled. It wasn't his buisness! But he needed to get his stuff... "... My shower stuff."

"Dude, I have some you can use! One sec, lemme get it." Alfred jumped up, running to his dresser and pulling out a towel. He handed it to a dumb-founded England. He wanted _his _stuff! Not his annoying roommate's! "The soap 'n stuff's already in there."

"..."

"Something wrong?" Alfred asked, oblivious.

"Actually-"

A knock at the door cut Arthur off. "Who's it?" Alfred called.

"It is Ivan."

"What do you want, commie?!" Alfred shouted angrily. Britain stared, stunned; who could cause his overly-obnoxious-roommate-who-knew-nothing-of-personal-boundries to change so quickly?

"I have a welcome gift for Arthur, da?" an accented voice replied.

"Well too ba- what are you doing?" Arthur was opening the door, having already set Alfred's towel down.

"Please, come in." he invited a tall Russian man standing at their doorway. He noticed three smaller men behind him, quivering.

"Much appreciated, comrade." he smiled creepily as he stepped inside, the three boys also coming in.

"Yes, thank you." the three called in unison. Why were they crying?

"Urm... Are you okay?" Arthur asked, trying to ignore Alfred's glare at Ivan.

"Pay no attention to them." Ivan grinned. "I brought you something~"

Arthur turned, only to jump back when he saw the scene before him: Alfred was snarling and holding a gun to Ivan's head, the Russian also holding a gun to Alfred's- but Ivan was still smiling. "What the- Alfred! What are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning out the commie scum! Why'd you let him in?" he cried.

"Because he is not a rude glutton like you." Ivan replied.

"Both of you, put the guns away!" Arthur called, tone serious.

Ivan hesitated, then lowered his weapon, putting it back in his coat. Alfred seemed like he was debating whether to do it also when Englad growled, "Put it away, or I'll personally send you to the hospital." Alfred obliged, warily looking at Ivan to see if he was going to attack him now that he was weapon-less. Ivan stayed where he was.

Before Arthur could say anything else, Ivan said, "Well, as much as I wish I could stay, I have a schedule to keep." he handed Arthur a bottle of Vodka and left, the three boys following him. England stared at the shut door for a moment, then set the bottle down and grabbed the towel Alfred lent him; he walked to the bathroom and shut the door, making sure to lock it.

'_The people here are_ _insane!_'Arthur thought as he turned the water on.


	12. Chapter 12

**I don't own Hetalia, and that's because Hidekaz Himaruya does! **

**Sorry, I was in Mississippi for a week!**

It was the first day of school and Arthur Kirkland couldn't wait until America would show him around the entire bloody school! ( **Author: Note the sarcasm, dudes.** ) He had already tried changing his roommate, but the school was set on him having Alfred as a partner. He had somehow managed to ditch the loud boy, and was now trying to find his classroom. '_First period I have... Gym. Ugh..'_

He put the piece of folded paper in his pocket, not bothering to hide the scowl that seemed to come so naturally to his face. He wasn't very fond of gym, never had been. He just wasn't built for that stuff... He was always last at everything involving exorcise. But it wasn't like he could just play hooky, even if he wanted to- Oliver would never let him hear the end of it; he knew because he tried once. Arthur shuddered at the memory.

-_FLASHBACK-_

_The boy smirked, glad beyond belief that he was able to avoid adults once more. They'd ask why he wasn't at school, and he couldn't feign sickness because he was at the mall. He glanced at the time- how was it already 3:05? He had just gotten there! Notheless, he had already been able to steal several items; a pocket knife, a portable CD player, and multiple pirate movies that he could somehow laugh at and tell which parts were fake an which ones you would actually find if you were out at sea. He had to get going now, because if he wasn't home by his usual time, Oliver would get suspicious._

_ He walked out of the mall, now not having to hide, and closed his eyes, breathing in the fresh scent of Autum air. He loved that smell, almost as much as he loved Winter air. He opened his eyes- and saw Oliver standing not even three feet away, looking __**pissed beyond all belief, **__glaring at him. He felt his heart stop- Oliver had caught him. Shit. _

_ Strangely enough, Oliver didn't come over and slap him, or even come over at all. He pulled out his phone, called someone, said, "I found him at he mall. You can call off your search.", then hung up. After that he walked away, towards his car, leaving Arthur feeling like the guiltiest person on earth. Oliver had found out that he wasn't at school, and called the police. The police then started a search mission for him, probably thinking that he was kidnapped. Oliver went looking also, checking one of Arthur's favorite places, just in case he was only playing hooky. Which he was._

_ He ran and caught up with Oliver, pulling on his sleeve and stopping him from moving. "Oliver? I'm sorry. I didn't want for you to worry... Are you okay?"_

_ Oliver was silent. Arthur, now thoroughly worried, moved in front of him. What he saw shocked him- Oliver looked sad. Sad and disapointed._

_ - END FLASHBACK -_

Arthur had remembered that look for the rest of his school life, and never played hooky again. He didn't ever want to see that face again; Oliver had adopted him, raised him, and helped him get through the hardest time of his life. When he came staggering home that night... Arthur shook his head, discarding the memory from his thoughts.

He looked up and saw that he had made it to gym. He cursed and went in.

The gym was huge, like a football stadium inside. He stared, astonished, until someone shouted, "Iggy~! There you are! Gym hasn't started yet, so we have time to talk!"

"Dang it, why are you in my class?" Arthur cursed. Alfred seemed to wilt for a moment, but soon perked back up.

"Because the office wants us together for every class!"

"Oh, shut it!"

Alfred was wrong. Arthur had one class without him. Unfortunitly, only one. And even then, only the people in that class knew that said class even existed. Why? Because the Magic class wasn't held in or during school. Magic class was held outside school grounds, at midnight on weekends. At first Arthur thought it was a prank, meant to get him in trouble. But when two people knocked quietly on his door at midnight on Saturday, he couldn't exactly tell them to bugger off- that would be playing hooky! He was not going to get that look again.

So he put his boots on and followed the two familliar-looking boys. They were dressed in black, and it was dark, so Arthur couldn't make out their features, but he recognized their voices.

They left the school grounds and went to a small park. That was in the middle of the street. In a sleeping city, surrounded by a blue light, in the shape of a circle. The first cloaked figure went through it, dissapearing as soon as he did so. Arthur froze, unsure of what to do.

"Go on", the thickly Romanian voice coaxed, "The class is in there!"

Gulping, Arthur went through.

Arthur waved goodbye to Lukas and Vladimir, the two waving back, and shut the door. He was so pumped! He could actually do magic! They had started off so simple, and Arthur had found that he had a knack for it! Almost as if he had done those spells a million times before- but that was impossible. When they left, the magic portal that Lukas had made dissapeared! Right before his eyes! It was so cool! It really was a shame that he couldn't tell anyone about it... Lukas and Vladimir made him promise not to tell a soul. He didn't know why, though. Maybe because no one would believe them? Or maybe it was really dangerous and the others would stop them if they knew that they were practicing it. Could it be illegal? Arthur grinned widely; the very thought of that made his heart rate accelerate.

He was really tired, considering that magic uses energy and it was 3 am, so he took his shoes off and plopped down into bed. He couldn't wait for midnight tonight.

"Iggy! Iggy, wake up! C'mon, you and I are going to go for a walk! IGGGGGGGGGGYYYYYY!" Alfred jumped on top of Arthur's sleeping figure. How could he still be asleep- it was elevan am and they had went to bed at eight! Alfred assumed it was just a teenager thing- he used to sleep in until 2, eat, then go back to bed until 2 the next day. But Arthur wasn't allowed to do that. Why? Because then he'd be missing the beauty of sharing a room with a hero!

He ended up accidently straddling the brit, and that's when Arthur woke up. He opened his eyes and saw Alfred's face not inches away from his own, and felt the American boy on top of him, unknowingly pinning him down. He blushed an apple red. "GET OFF YOU PERVERTED WANKER!" he screamed. Alfred cocked his head to the side, confused. Perverted? He was only waking his friend up!

When he made no move to get off of him, Arthur gritted his teeth; he didn't want to do it, but if it was his only option... "HELP! RAPE! ALFRED'S GONE MAD! GET HIM OFF OF ME! HEELLPP!" he shreiked as loud as he could (**Author: FYI, the scream made it outside the school grounds, freaking multiple mortals out.** ). Before our beloved hero could even react, Basch, a Swiss man, kicked open the door and burst into the room, holding a rifle. He cocked it and pointed it at Alfred.

Alfred jumped off of Arthur, holding his hands up and facing Basch. "Dude, I wasn't doing anything like that! I was trying to wake him up so we could go for a walk!" Arthur pulled the covers up to his chest protectively, even though he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, and blushed. He wasn't blushing because of the close contact with his roommate, he was blushing because he was holding back tears. Someone had come. Not like when he was younger. No one had come then.

Basch relaxed when he saw that it was just Alfred. He growled and left the room, slamming the door.

Alfred waited a moment, then turned around and yelled, "Seriously, dude? _Rape_? What the Hell were you thinki-" he cut himself off, finaly noticing that Arthur was almost ready to cry. He sighed and sat down next to him, the bed going down because of his massive weight. "What's wrong? Did I actually scare you that much?" Silence. "Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to think that."

Arthur suddenly got out of bed and pulled his boots on, put his gun that was stached inside the drawer back in it's place, and walked out of the room without a word.

_**~ To be continued...**_


	13. Chapter 13

**I do NOT own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does! For those of you that have read this already, I've changed it at the bottom and end of the story, so read! The author's note at the very end is important, so read!**

**P.S.: Your breasts are mine, da-zeh!**

Arthur Kirkland quickly walked away from his dorm room, trying and failing to hide all emotion. '_Pull it together, twat! Nothing happened to you! Quit showing such weakness!'_ But he couldn't help it- just thinking about it made him want to cry... He sniffed, thankful that no one was around. '_It's only showing weakness if someone's around. No one's here now.'_

He couldn't, though. Part of him just didn't want to let anyone know that he was suffering. That was pathetic. Others would ridicule him for it. They would laugh at him for being weak. Just like _him._ A sob came out of him, though he wasn't crying, his knees feeling weaker than Jello. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. Then he would win, and leave him alone.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't turn around. He couldn't care less who it was, he had to quit being so emotional either way. So he stiffed a lip, spun around and yelled, "Bloody twat, leave me alone!"

It was Alfred. He took his hand off of Arthur's shoulder. "Tell me what's wrong." He looked like he actually cared. But he couldn't have. They had just met.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing's wrong."

"That's a lie."

"In your opinion."

"Yeah," he looked angry, "in my opinion! You were crying! So tell me what's wrong!"

Alfred almost looked... Scary. But it didn't seem to faze Arthur. "I. Will. Never. Tell. You."

"And why the Hell not?" he wasn't yelling, but the fact that he wasn't made those words so much more menacing. "Why can't you tell me?"

"No." he started backing away, towards the road. "I know what you're doing. Once I give you a little information, you could piece together the rest, or make me accidently spill it. I'm dropping the subject." He was now at the edge of the road, and Alfred knew what he was doing. But it was too late.

Arthur launched into the road, expertly dodging every car, going over some, and only stopped when he reached the sidewalk on the other side. He looked at Alfred with defience. "Quit trying to be my hero."

Then a large eighteen-wheeler passed, and he was gone.

Alfred glared at the space Arthur used to be in. The only way he would be able to get Arthur to tell him what was wrong would be to get him drunk. But would he be able to get Arthur to drink? He thought he was only 16, and the law required him to be at least 22. Consuming beer would be illegal in his eyes. He needed a plan- Arthur only had to drink one, since he was such a bad drunk.

Meanwhile, Arthur was running as fast as he could away from Gauken AU. Anywhere where he didn't know anyone was fine. He went around a corner and slowed down. Alfred hadn't given chase. He ignored the slight feeling of dissapointment. '_Liar. If he was my hero he would make sure I'm truly alright, even if I push him away.'_

He looked into an allyway, hearing strange noises. Kind of like... Grunts. Was someone fighting in there? He pulled out his gun and slowly went down the long ally. He soon saw two figures, one obviously female, the other male. The male had the girl pinned to the wall. The girl was crying. He raised his gun at the boy. "Oi! If you want to live, get the fuck away from her. _Now._"

The boy looked up, seemingly astonished that someone had interrupted him. He opened his mouth, about to argue, then saw the gun directed at his face. He stepped away, the girl dropping to her knees. "Now go away. And never bother her again." Arthur hissed. The male backed away slowly, then turned and sprinted. After a moment, when all Arthur could hear was sniffles, he put his gun away. Then he walked towards the girl, kneeling next to her. The red-head stared at him, dumbfounded and crying. "Are you alright, miss?"

She cried louder, throwing herself on Arthur. He staggered back, not expecting the weight, but caught himself at the last moment. He hugged her back. "N-now I am." she cried, "T-thank y-you! Thank you s-so much!"

Arthur smiled. "Hey, it's okay. I just did what anyone would do. What's your name?" He already knew.

"J-Jennifer..."

"Jennifer. What a pretty name! Mine's Arthur. Well, Jennifer, do you need help getting home?"

"Y-yes, please. I live just around the corner. Next to the big school." Of course he knew where she lived.

"Gauken AU?"

"Yes, that's the one! Do you go there?"

"Yes, yes I do." He chuckled. '_How typical... The very place I'm trying to escape is where I need to go.'_ He stood up, holding Jennifer's hand, and began leading her out of the ally. "Let's go, Jennifer. I wouldn't want your parents to worry.."

The fourteen year old girl smiled. "Thank you, Arthur."

He smiled back. "You're welcome." They went back to the school, and right before they crossed the road to said school's property, Jennifer said, "This is my house."

She went up to the door, opened it, and , right before she went inside, ran back and hugged Arthur, kissing his cheek. "You're a hero, Arthur. Thank you." She ran inside and closed the door. Arthur smiled.

"Anything to help out an old friend, Jennifer Willis." he murmured. And he did know her. From when he was fourteen. Before the ancident. Shame she didn't remember him. Arthur began walking back to his school.

Before long he had made it to his dorm. He opened the door quietly, hoping that Alfred was asleep. He wasn't. He was on his bed, with his back turned to the door. He looked like he was contemplating something- or waiting for him. Arthur then began to close the door, his plan for spending the night at a friend's already in mind. Suddenly Alfred jumped up and spun around, looking straight at Arthur.

Arthur froze, unsure of what to do. "Dude- I was seriously worried! Why are you so intent on me not calling myself your her-"

The door slammed shut, cutting Alfred off. The American boy shot toward the door, opened it, and sped down the hall after his friend. Why was he running so freaking hard away from him? At the rate Alfred was running, Arthur must have been sprinting his heart out! Time for the super-human strength to kick in- Alfred sped up until he was running as fast as he could; he tackled Arthur in the garden, knocking him down with a surprised squeak. He quickly pinned the british boy down, before he made a run for it. As Alfred suspected, Arthur was panting like he was suffocating, sweat beading down his face; he was never very good at sports

"G-get off of me! Let go!" Arthur squirmed, trying and failing to sound authoritive. A strange look enveloped Alfred's face, one that Arthur luckily didn't notice; a look of longing. Alfred shook his head, attempting to disperse his thoughts. Arthur finaly realized that he couldn't get away and stared angrily into blue eyes. "What the Hell? Do you often attack your bloody roomates when you don't get something you want?"

Alfred shook his head. "Not normally, no. Just bad guys."

"So I'm a bad guy, now?"

"No. You're a special case. You need someone to help you get through whatever it is you're secretly going through. And I want to be that someone." he looked so determined, Arthur almost lost his will-power for a moment. But he steeled up again.

"Maybe I don't want someone's shoulder to cry on. Hmm?" he said it so cockily that it should have convinced Alfred that he really didn't, but it didn't.

"You may not want one, but this shoulder's going to be in your face until you do." he grinned.

Arthur was silent, obviously ticked off. He should call the authorities. This _couldn't _be legal. Having your roommate want to leech onto you and bug you for the rest of your stay at school, then actually fufill his desires. Arthur thought about screaming 'GUN! HE'S GOT GUN!', but then no one would come help him- plus he also had a gun, so everyone knew that if he was yelling it he wouldn't be telling the truth; either that or he'd be safe and just wanting to get someone in trouble. Not to mention that he had already did that once.

Then, as Alfred shifted to get a little more comfortable (don't judge- Arthur's really skinny and bony!), an idea struck Britain. How? He got crushed by Alfred's massive weight.

"Get off! Get off, Alfred! You're killing me!" he started flailing around, acting as if he was actually in pain.

"How?" Alfred laughed, thinking it a trick (it was, but still!).

Arthur, who had by now calmed down from his running, began wheezing painfully, hoping that it would add affect to his 'impending doom'. "Y-you're... M-m... Massive weight is... CRUSHING ME!"

"Dude." Alfred's blue eyes narrowed. "Uncool."

But Arthur continued his facade. "I-I'm serious... Al-lfred... I can't breath! What d-do you _eat_?"

"... Hamburgers..." Alfred pouted, still on Arthur. "But I drink diet soda to balance it out!"

"Y-you seriously... Think that tha' _helps?_"

"Well, yeah.."

Arthur kicked his breathing up a notch so that it seemed like he was about to pass out. "G-get... Off..."

"Okay, okay, dude! Cool your beans!" if Alfred got off, Arthur was near-death anyway, so surely he didn't have the strength to run away! The hero got off poor Arthur. Arthur lay dead for a second. America poked him. "Quit with the weight jokes. I know that you're conscious."

Then, before America could react (**Author: That seems to be happening a lot lately. My, my, getting slow, aren't we, Alfred?**), Britain jumped up, pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pants, locked one side onto America's wrist, and the other on the base of a bush. He rolled out of the way, before America could grab him. He ran away a few meters, then looked back and smiled. "Before you think I'm leaving you out here to die, I know that you can break those. But if you do, you owe me $125. I'll expect it the first time I see you free. I'll be in my room~"

America let out a roar of frusteration.

**I ****_know_**** you're out there, 'cause the recording for amount of people who've read my story up to the 12 th chapter is like 11 people! YET YOU GUYS DON'T COMMENT OR VOTE! SO EITHER CRITISIZE OR F*CKING GIVE ME INSPIRATION AND THE DESIRE TO CONTINUE! I REFUSE TO MAKE ANOTHER CHAPTER UNTIL I GET 7 VOTES!**


	14. Chapter 14

**I do not own Hetalia. That right goes to Hidekaz Himaruya. I do not own anything except the story~**

**Hey, so if you're reading this, I either lost will-power like usual or seven people voted on my story! **

Arthur ran through the small portal, fuming. He was really late to the Magic meeting, and it was all America's fault! If the bloody git hadn't tackled him, he wouldn't have slept in until one am! He was an hour late! Once inside, he stopped and stared around, huffing. Lukas and Vladimir were looking at him with amusment, as if they were sharing an inside joke.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing." Lukas smirked. "You're late."

Arthur's gaze hardened. "It's Alfred's fault."

"And why is that?" Vladimir asked, obviously knowing something.

"Urk... It just is."

Lukas grinned openly now. "No... Tell us."

Arthur glared at them, realizing something. "And why would I do that when you already know?"

Now Vladimir smiled, too. "So you figured us out..."

"Yes, I'm not stupid. You two obviously wanted me to say something you would consider embarrassing. And I would say that today's events were quite so for America. But you guys shouldn't have gone into my memory without my permission!"

"Okay~! Moving on, yesterday we started off with easy magic to see if you had a lot of potential in you. Today we're going to start actually learning stuff... And that can get dangerous." Lukas said.

"Yes, like life-threatening, accidently cursed someone for life dangerous. One mispronounced syllable can cause a nuclear reaction to go off in the place you love most. But we can't learn spells part by part..." Vladimir continued.

"So we have to wing every one and go back to fix the consequences later in life!" Lukas smiled cheerfully. "And that's why we're learning how to do that spell first! Page 1,105."

"... I have no comment to that." Arthur replied, shaking his head. He pulled out his book of spells and turned to the page Lukas mentioned. The spell was titled, '**How to Turn Back Time**'.

Lukas and Vladimir watched Arthur walk out of the portal. As soon as he did, Vladimir said, "I wish we were able to turn back time and un-do that spell..."

Lukas nodded his head, agreeing. "You know we tried. It wasn't out fault the spell can only be broken by Arthur agreeing to un-do it."

"I know, but I feel so... Powerless..."

"Don't we all?"

"Yeah... I don't envy America. He's obviously heart-broken that England doesn't remember him."

Britain slowly crept in the dormitory, so he wouldn't wake anyone up. He was still angry at Alfred for trying to force him to tell him stuff, but he decided to be the bigger person and try to forget about it. One thing that he couldn't forget, however, was the fact that Lukas and Vladimir had went into his memory to find out why he was late. If they could do that, they could probably go back further and find out his secret. He wasn't going to let that happen.

Arthur went to his room and slowly opened the door- Alfred was asleep, a pair of broken handcuffs on his nightstand, $125 on Arthur's. A plan had already formed in his head for how he would get rid of the threat. He would wait until Lukas and Vladimir left the magic room, then he would go in and magically make it so that no one could do that to him. If he was caught by them, he had an excuse- he had purposely forgotten his magic book. He set his stuff down and ruffled up his bed so that it looked like he had slept in it and just went for a walk. He looked at the clock; it was 4:20. They should be gone by now.

He left the room, the sound of the door shuting waking Alfred up. '_Arthur left. I should go after him and make sure he's okay!'_ So he got up and trailed silently after his crush; if Britain found out that he was following him, he would turn back! To his great surprise, England left the school grounds, going down many roads before looking around warily. What was he so afraid of being seen doing?

Then, Alfred had to watch, horrified but not being able to do anything, as his friend opened a magic portal and went through. He was practicing magic! But he had lost his memory, and the countries had banned Norway and Romania from teaching him until he was going to un-do the spell blocking his memories!

The portal closed, and America decided to turn back- if Arthur magically transported back to the room and found him gone, he would get suspicious.

Meanwhile, Britain was sitting down at the over-crowded desk in the corner of the large room, intently searching for some type of spell that would protect him from other spells. Finally, he found it: '_**Donec a se, propter veneficia;**_', translating to '**_Protection from other's spells:_**'. The spell would block spells that other people cast on him, while not interferring with his magic. Perfect. He went over to the magic circle in the center of the room and lit all the candles.

He quickly read over the old latin text, then recited, being careful to pronounce everything correctly,

" **_Tollite me, et tuere me_**

**_Ex aliis,_**

**_me velim de me malum et facere acri me_**

**_nullo modo fieri potest, in,_**

**_Et tamen velim ne impedirent_**

**_magiae._**_ "_

He felt a warm presnce wrap itself around him. He breathed in deeply, the scent of warm cinnamon and pastries fill his nostrils. Within seconds it left, leaving a very dissapointed Arthur in it's wake. It was done. He was protected. He breathed out the breath he had been holding, suddenly sad. What was it? A pang in his heart felt almost real, echoing through his very being, everything around him dissapearing into white blur.

Then he was at a battle field, watching in stunned silence as he collapsed in front of an army, wearing a british uniform from the American Revolution, sobbing into the cold mud as it rained, no sound letting itself be known to him. He was himself- how could he be in front of him? After he thought that thought, visions came flooding in, over-powering his memories. The entire history of Great Britain wormed itself into his mind, as well as the thoughts and feelings he had once felt. The people at Gauken AU weren't really who they said they were. They were each their respectable countries, who were destined to fight and get hurt and live through everything their country did. An unbreakable bond burned onto their very essence. And he was no different. He was the worst of them all. He lived in the past. Everyone hated him because he was a bastard and pushed people who tried to get close to him away. He was just a burden on other people, and he had tried to kill himself, but failed. The people he had pushed away had saved him.

He staggered back, tears in his eyes. This was too much to take in; more kept forcing itself inside his head, filling him with both despair and hope. The last to come was the most shocking: he was in love with America, otherwise known as Alfred F. Jones. The obnoxiously loud and pushy American was his crush. And he cared. _All_ of the countries cared, or they wouldn't have tried to get him back.

He saw the portal begin to open, and quickly blew out all the candles and dissapeared, transporting back to his room and onto his bed. He hid his magic stuff in it's usual hiding place. Why didn't they tell him who he was when they had found him? It would have saved them a lot of fuss... But, oh, well. If they didn't trust him enough to tell him, there must be a reason. Or they weren't allowed to tell him- plenty of spells had that requirement when it came to memories.

Either way, he was going to have fun angering the countries he hated most. And they couldn't wage war on him because they didn't know that he had his memories back! Ha!

It'd make things awkward with America, though.. '_No,_' he decided, '_I'll just act the same way towards him. The same way I've acted for centuries._'

Norway and Romania threw open the portal, Germany, and America behind them. America had told Germany what he saw and Germany had ordered the two (who had denied everything) to show him and retrieve England.

But when the portal was fully opened, it showed an empty room, looking untouched.

Norway and Romania secretly shared a look of relief. Britain had used the emergancy escape spell they had taught him.

"We told you. We haven't done anything. Maybe he taught himself. I don't really care right now. It's cold. Good bye." Romania said coldly, Norway agreeing. They left, and Germany followed, glaring at America.

America knew what he saw, though. A determined look filled his eyes. "I'll figure out what's happening, Iggy."

**SOOOO... Votes and comments are appreciated! ... And guess what? A possum was just on my porch eating the dog food, school's cancelled tomorrow because of icy roads, and I'm listening to the song on the right... All is right for now ~.**


	15. Chapter 15

**I don't own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himaruya does.**

Arthur strut down the hall, actually enjoying having a gun on him and wearing punk clothes. He noticed that every one was staring at him, but he didn't care. He heard the bell ring and slowed his walking as everyone hustled to class. Once the hallways were deserted, Arthur grinned. He already knew everything his teacher ( Germania ) would be teaching him. He had to act like a juvinielle delinquent- why not embrace his past self? He loved it when he was a punk; he had had so much fun it was sickening!

Britain walked out of the school, headphones in his ears, blowing gum and singing along to his loud music. He found himself walking in the school garden, having a score to settle with France because of the first day. How dare he?! He walked over to the rose bushes and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. He flicked on the flame and held it under the biggest and most beautiful rose he could find. He remained emotionless as the plant caught fire, quickly spreading to the rest of the bush. Once the fire was large enough that he was positive that someone in the school would point it out at any moment, Arthur walked away, a smug grin on his face.

He made it to his dorm room before someone shouted, "Fire! Fire in the garden, aru!"

He walked over to the window and pulled his headphones down, watching the scene with cat-like eyes. France ran out with a huge bucket of water ( and to Arthur's horror, was only wearing a rose ), and drenched the fire, cussing the whole time.

Revenge? Oh, yes. Arthur would have his revenge- on all of the members of the Bad Touch Trio. This one was just France's part. The best part? France's punishment wasn't over. He still had one more part. Suddenly he heard the Frog screech, "ARTHUR! I KNOW 'OU 'ID ZHIS 'O MY 'EAUTIFUL ROSES! GET 'OWN 'ERE! WHEN I 'ET MY 'ANDS ON 'OU, I'LL KILL YOU!"

He opened his window and smirked down at France. He yelled as loud as he could so others could hear their conversation. "Ya know, Francis, I've been wondering about something... Your dick must be really small, considering that you can completely hide it behind a single rose. The only thing smaller that I can think of would have to be your I.Q.!"

He heard lots of laughing and angry sputtering as he closed the window, widely grinning. He turned around, the next part of his plan ready to be put in action.

Britain found Prussia in the library, reading a book for once. It was about Prussia, naturally. Arthur grinned- this gave him an opening. He walked over to the albino, and sat down in front of him, trying to look curious about what he was reading. "Hey, Gilbert. I have a question for you, if your awesomeness wouldn't mind.." he somehow managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Gilbert looked up, smiling. "Sure! Go ahead."

"What's someone as awesome as you doing reading a book about _Prussia?_" he added a lot of scoff on the country's name. Gilbert's eyes narrowed.

"What are you say-"

Arthur cut him off, waving his hand flippantly and pretending that he didn't hear or see him. "I mean, Prussia's not a country. Like, at all. It's a pathetic excuse for a bit of land that is dead. It's not awesome at all. And it never will be." Prussia looked like he was going to explode. "I remember when I was a little kid. I had done some research and found this country called Prussia. It was too boring for me to actually research it, so I just went around the mall asking people if they knew what it was. No one knew." he took a breath, "So, anyway, what is someone like you doing reading something as stupid as that?"

Gilbert looked like he was about to yell at Arthur when said brit's phone went off, an alarm that he had set earlier to get out of Gilbert's scolding. He stood up, giving an apologetic look to the albino. "Sorry, I have to go now. Bye- maybe we'll pick up on this conversation later!"

And he walked away, leaving a fuming country out for his head. Stage two complete!

Arthur walked up to Spain, wearing a British Union shirt proudly. "Hey, Antonio! What's your favorite country? Mine's Britain."

Spain turned around, smiling. "I thought it was obvious- Spain!"

"Then from now on you're my enemy! Just kidding! But seriously, remember when Britain totally kicked Spain's ass in the pirating days? Come to think of it, I gave a video about that very thing to your roommate. He looked really happy to recieve something about Spain's failures, and asked me not to... Tell... You... Oops... You didn't hear this from me, okay?"

Antonio looked really sad. "Yeah... Okay."

"What's wrong? It's okay, I'm sure he won't watch it around you! He seems like a really nice boy. Oh, by the way, do you know about the group of boys fawning over him outside of school? They look really dangerous... You should try to protect him if he goes outside. Anyway, bye!"

That night, as Arthur lay in bed, he heard Romano scream, "Antonio! You cazzo- what are you doing snooping through my stuff? Get out, tomato bastard!"

"B-but Lovino, you have a disk-"

"It doesn't matter what I have- get out!"

"It's my room, too- ahh, Lovino, quit pushing me ou-" he was cut off by a door slamming.

Yes, Arthur had gotten his revenge. On every member of the Bad Touch Trio. And he liked feeling powerful. Before he couldn't do anything like this- he would have started wars with France and Germany, and Spain would've been suspicious with his wierd behavior. He liked being a delinquent.

**Another chapter's writtin!**

**Yay?**

**Sure, why not?**

**Yay!**

**Vote, comment, and add please! ~**


	16. Chapter 16

**I don't own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himaruya does.**

"Arthur, it has come to my attention that you have been skipping school and causing problems for others." Germania gestured to the three members of the BTT, standng behind Arthur, who was sitting in a green chair in front of the teacher/ principal's desk.

Arthur had decided to play innocent as soon as he had been called to the office on a Saturday. "Sir, I don't quite understand what you mean. I know that I called Francis' dick small, but that's all I've done. It was an honest statement that I had been wondering about."

"And what about Antonio and Gilbert? You don't seem to like them, either." he asked skeptically.

Arthur forced his gaze to harden, as if he was remembering something. "With all due respect, I don't like them for the main reason no one else likes them."

Germania showed a look of understanding. Then he cleared his throat. "And what about the classes you've skipped?"

Arthur remained silent. Germania said nothing, looking for a look of remorse or regret on Arthur. After six minutes, when he continued to see nothing, he sighed. "You may go, Kirkland. Francis, Gilbert, Antonio, stay."

Arthur got up, turned his back on the older country, and smirked at the three before him. He left the room after that.

He walked outside, not wanting to go inside on a day as pretty as this. The school was large and all, but it was December and Arthur had explored and over-used every pathway on the school grounds. He needed something new, or he would go crazy.

The only problem was, even though he got all of his memories back, he didn't want to go outside. This city was the city where the incident happened, and though he knew that he shouldn't still be scared of the man, he was. He was out-right terrified of him. He had gotten better since finding out that he was a country, but the chance of finding him- or him finding Arthur - was too great a risk. Maybe he would get Alfred to come with him. Arthur's heart sped up. He really did love him. But America would never love him back. He was straight, and only thought of Arthur as a friend.

He sighed, and went to go find America. He found him in the room, working intently on something at the desk next to the window. He didn't know that Arthur was in the room as said brit went up behind him, looking over his shoulder. Suddenly Arthur blushed, and smacked Alfred over the head. "What the Hell, Alfred? '_My Plan to Get Arthur Drunk_'?! Why the bloody Hell would you want to do that?"

Alfred shot up, his hands covering the paper uselessly before him. He turned around sheepishly. "H-hey, Artie! I thought you were going to be gone for a while longer... Was' up?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Alfred," he warned, "don't screw with me."

Alfred sighed sadly. He handed Arthur the paper. "I thought... I thought I could get you to tell me why you don't want me to be your hero if you were drunk." Arthur scanned over the plan. Basically, he was going to spike his tea.

"Have you already done any of this?" he asked in the coldest tone he could come up with. Alfred looked up at him.

"No.."

"Let's keep it that way."

"I wouldn't have had to try to get you drunk if you would just tell me!" he blurted out. England looked down at him with a steely look.

"I'm not going to tell you, Am- Alfred!" America's eyes widened.

"Where did that come from?" he asked, a shadow over his face.

"How am I supposed to know, git?"

"You just are! So where did that come from?"

"Why are you getting so worked up? I stuttered on you name- so what?"

U.S.A. seemed like he wanted to argue, then he dropped it. The bell rang, warning everyone that dinner was ready. He got up and left, pausing at the doorway to look back at Arthur and ask, "Are you going?"

Arthur shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

Alfred left. Once the footsteps outside the room faded away, Arthur went into the small kitchen and opened the cabinet furthest to the left. He took his precious tea out and did the worst thing he could ever think of- he dumped it all out, wincing painfully as he did so. He knew how easily he got drunk. He couldn't risk Alfred already having spiked it. He loved him, but Alfred was expecting Arthur to tell him everything and trust him no matter what. And he couldn't. The Revolutionary War had taken too much out of him. Maybe he'd trust him if they were together, but they weren't.

The brit looked at the time; it was 6:05. If he wanted to leave without anyone knowing, he would have to go now. He wouldn't last until tomorrow, he felt like he was slowly suffocating. He didn't like being in the same place for very long. And the two months he had been at this school was long enough. He needed a break- luckily for him, winter break had started earlier that evening. He would just go visit Oliver for a week. He only needed his black journal and his magic book, since he had bought everything he needed for here when he first came here. He put the two books in a green backpack and went outside the dorm room. He would take a cab to Oliver's.

Alfred wasn't at dinner, either. He was in the garden, hidden from Arthur by trees, looking at a small handheld device that showed him the videos that the secret cameras hidden in every room in the school had taped of Arthur. Nothing useful to report, other than the fact that England had dumped all of his tea out, obviously not trusing Alfred's word. He had reason to, since the tea was, indeed, spiked, but the fact that he didn't trust Alfred made him a little sad. He grit his teeth when Arthur walked out of the dorm room, a backpack slung over his shoulder. Where was he going? As he went down the hall, Alfred had to switch cameras to keep up with him.

But when Arthur went off of school grounds, Alfred didn't have any more cameras. Something was up, that much he was sure, so America followed him from a comfortable distance, making sure not to get caught. Stalking him seemed to be the only way to get information these days. Alfred didn't feel right following his crush, but it was the only way to find out what was happening..

He saw Britain hail a cab and quickly called his own. Once the car finally came, Arthur's had already left, but was within sight. "Follow that car from a distance, please." he ordered the driver, flashing an I.D. for someone very high up in the government. The driver nodded and began the pursuit, expertly stalking the car without being noticed. When Arthur's cab stopped at Oliver's house, the driver went down the street and out of sight, then let Alfred off. As he paid the driver, Alfred smiled. "You did really good. Here, give me your card and I'll see what I can do to get you a better job. Write what you want to be down on the paper.

The driver, a young man, 23 at most, with neat brown hair and brown eyes wrote his job preferance down, smiled at Alfred, and left. Alfred looked at the card. A neat number was printed there, and the word, '**spy**' was also there. Alfred smiled and put the card securely in the pocket inside his bomber jacket.

Alfred then walked down the road and onto Oliver's porch. He knew that Arthur was inside, and he also knew that the brit would be angry if he found out that he had followed him. So he pulled his phone out and called Arthur's 2p.

"'ello? This is Oliver speaking."

"Hey, it's me. Alfred. I was wondering if you could come onto your porch for a sec and go for a walk? Without Arthur."

A moment of silence. Then, "I'll be right out."

Alfred stepped back as the door to the big house swung open and Oliver walked out, clearly confused. He was about to say something when Alfred cut him off, whispering, "I need to talk to you. About Arthur."

Oliver began walking to his car. He got in, and waited for America to do the same. Alfred followed, sitting in the passenger side. The car pulled out and they started driving. Once they got a little bit away, Alfred said, "So... Why did we get in a car and drive away?"

Oliver replied without looking at him. "Britain is a talented spy, Alfred. He was listening to us when we were on the porch. The only place I'm sure he hasn't put cameras is this car- it's new."

It _was_ new- it just looked exactly like the old one. America hadn't noticed. "Anyway... I need to talk to you about Britain. Earlier, when he was talking to me, he got really mad, and began to call me America, but changed it at the last minute. Then he skipped dinner, and while he thought I was out, he left and came to you without word."

Oliver took this information in. He quickly glanced at America, then looked back at the road. "Maybe he said it by accident. By reflex, perhaps? The spell on him must have cracked a little because of his emotions."

America nodded, doubtful. "Maybe... But he also knows magic. I saw him summon a portal." he hesitated for a second, then added, "And did you know that he has a gun on him at all times?"

Oliver pulled the car over. "What?! How'd he get a gun?"

Alfred shrugged. "I du'nno. But he got one. And he nearly used it on the BTT, if rumors count for anything."

"That's not good. I take it you noticed which stage in time he's currently in?"

"His punk stage."

"Yes. That's why that's not good. But those aren't the only reasons you asked for a private conversation, are they?"

"No. Something's been bothering me..."

"And what is that?"

"Well... You see... Arthur gets _really_ touchy when I call myself his hero, or when someone gets too close to him. That's actually why he pulled the gun out at France... He was being France. And one day, when I was trying to wake him up, I was shaking him from on top of him and he screamed 'rape'! Then another time, just a few days ago, I was trying to get him to tell me why he won't let me call myself his hero, and he ran away. Later that day, I tackled him when he ran and he started crying. So my question is..." he stared Oliver right in the eyes, not surprised when he saw a very sad expression on his face, "What the Hell happened?"

Oliver sighed. "You love Arthur, right?"

America blushed. "...Is it that obvious?"

"No. But you'd do anything to make him happy, right?"

"Of course." he said without hesitation.

"Then you need to get the truth out of Arthur yourself. If you love him, you wouldn't want him to be angry because you were snooping. What happened... Was very serious, and Arthur's very emotional about it. If you were to confess? That would help more than you'd think. He wants a long relationship, not one tied to his country. One for real."

"But how will I get it out of him?"

"You'll figure it out. Meanwhile, you can stay at my place to get close to him. And," he smiled knowingly, "you might just find the school burned to the ground tomorrow, the very school that was evacuated that very day. Don't worry, I'll tell Germany that you need a month or three."

America grinned. "You're scary, you know that?"

"Yes, yes I do."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hidekaz Himaruya owns Hetalia, I do not.**

Arthur stumbled down the stairs, one side of his green pjs slipping down his shoulder, drool coming out of his mouth, his hand scratching his stomach. He had just woken up, but it felt like he was still asleep. He had the urge to go downstairs, though, for some reason. He managed to make it to the kitchen, where he saw his roommate eating a pile of hamburgers so large it made someone have a heart attack just seeing it. He stood there dumbly, staring at the sight before him. America still hadn't noticed him, and was eating the heart-stopping food like it was his last meal. Which Arthur thought it would be, at that rate. It wasn't that he hadn't seen him do that before, it was just one small thing that made him actually pay attention to the view; America was in his house.

"Hey, bro." Alfred said, looking at him, with his mouth full. He held out one of his precious burgers. "Want one?"

Britain didn't move, his hand still scratching his stomach. Then he slowly turned around and began shuffling up the stairs.

Two hours later, Britain, now fully dressed and ready for the day, went down the stairs and saw America sitting in his living room, watching soccer (**In America we call it Football!**), a drink in his hand. "What are you doing in my house?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

Alfred answered without even looking at him. How rude. "Hey, bro. You're awake. Again. Yeah, so the school burned down and Oliver offered to let me stay here cause my parents are asses and won't come and get me."

Arthur stood there (again), staring at America. Then he sat down next to him (Read: on the other side of the couch), looking at the T.V. with uninterested eyes. Not much actually surprised him when it came to the other countries. He got comfortable and asked, "What are we watching? Soccer?"

"Nah, football."

"Soccer."

"Football."

"It's soccer, you twat!"

"It's football!" America snapped.

"Soccer!" Arthur hissed.

"How could you have been raised in America and still call it soccer? It's football here!"

"Too bad! I'm not American- I'm obviously British."

"Obviously." Alfred rolled his eyes.

A moment passed, then Arthur realized something. "What do you mean, _obviously?_ Was that an insult?"

"What? No! Touchy, much?"

"Where did that come from? Are you implying that I'm sensitive?" Arthur jumped up, angry.

"Yes." Alfred stayed where he was.

"You bastard!" Britain threw the nearest item he could reach at America- which just so happened to be an apple.

Not expecting this, and watching football, America still caught it right before it hit him. He looked at Arthur with an amused look on his face. He started throwing the fruit up and down. "Are you sensitive about being sensitive, Arthur?"

"You bloody wanker! How dare you?" he picked up the rest of the fruit and began throwing it at Alfred, the loud boy catching it each time. America stood up, a grin on his face.

"That the best you got?"

Arthur then picked up the basket the fruit was in and threw it at the boy in front of him. Alfred dodged it, laughing. The next thing to be thrown was the table the fruit basket was on. America caught that one, and set it down gently. He looked up in time to dodge a spray of blackened scones. "Dang, Arthur, you're showing no mercy! What if I accidently catch one in my mouth? It'll be the end of me!"

The barrage thickened, and, in order to block the ruined pastries, Alfred flung the couch on it's side and hid behind it, laughing too hard to speak. When something was flung so hard it moved the couch upon impact, Alfred peeked over the side to see what it was. It was a cabinet. Alfred ducked back under the couch. All of a sudden, the attack stopped. Without looking, America called, "What's wrong, Arthur? Run out of things to try and kill me with?"

A voice replied from- _was that above him? _"Not quite!"

America looked up, only to have England jump on top of him and try to get a tie around his neck. America was breathless from laughing so hard, and that gave Arthur, who was now grinning, a chance. Alfred swatted Arthur's hand away from him, sending it into his hair. Because Alfred was lazy, and hadn't brushed his hair, Arthur's hand got stuck. When he pulled it, not noticing it getting stuck, knots that were loosly around his hand tightened, denying him the ability to leave.

"What...?" he pulled it again, harder. He had absolutely no idea that he was tangled up in Nantucket...

In a matter of seconds, America had flipped Britain over, so that he was on top, and his face was mere inches away from Arthur's. His hand had slipped under the small of Arthur's back, pulling the brit closer to him, and his breath was looming over Arthur's neck. "Wha...?" Britain gasped.

Then America seemed to gather his senses, and jumped back, pulling Arthur's hand with him, only to lurch forward, pinning Arthur down. What was scary to Britain was that even with America on top of him, he seemed to be using excessive amounts of energy just controlling himself. It wasn't... A bad scary, though. Not like all the other times he had been in this situation. Maybe because he liked the person on top of him?

"A-Arthur..." America ground out, breathing heavily, "Y-your hand..."

"Huh?" his hand was stuck in his hair, right where America's cowlick usually was. So? "Yeah? It got caught when we were messing around. Actually, right before you started... Acting like this."

America seemed to be debating about telling him something when Britain gave his hand a tug, trying to get it out. "Uwah! A-Arthur, could y-you n-not d-do that?"

"Huh? Why?" another tug.

"I-it's my- nyng! Arthur!"

"What?" one more yank.

And then, just as the front door opened and Oliver walked in, America yelled, "Nantucket's my erogenous zone!"

Oliver froze, taking in the situation. After that, he said cheerfully, "I'll call help." and shut the front door. Meanwhile, Arthur and Alfred were blushing, and trying (Read: failing) to get into a comfortable position without triggering Alfred's cowlick.

25 minutes later, Oliver and a new person walked into the room. America quit moving once he recognized the second boy. "Oliver!" he whined (Read: it honestly sounded more like a whimper), "Why would you bring him? Wasn't there anyone else?"

"Geez, love you too, bro." Allen grumbled.

Arthur knew that Allen was Alfred's 2p, but they didn't know that he had his memory back, so he asked, "Who's Allen? Is he your brother?"

"...Yeah. But we don't get along. At all." America answered, glaring at Allen. Said 2p smirked.

He walked over and pat Alfred's shoulder. "So I heard you're having some trouble." he said in the most smug voice possible.

"Don't touch me."

"I'm gonna have to do worse than that, lil' bro."

"What?"

"I was called over for a reason. That give you any hints? You know, regarding your current situation."

Alfred blushed. "Shut up! Not gonna happen!"

"So you wanna stay like that forever? 'Cause your cowlick's not going to go away. You can get me to do it, or you can get someone who doesn't know what it does to do it and have the secret spread to the world. Literally."

A moment of silence. Allen's smirk grew wider, and he sat down next to Alfred. He pat his lap, waiting for America to get on. Said American did no such thing. Allen sighed. "It's going to take longer for it to be over if you don't start."

Britain nudged America, blushing. "Go ahead and get on. It'll be easier for you if it ends quickly."

Embarrassed beyond belief, Alfred sat down on Allen's lap. And so it began.

**I'm stopping here for your sanity! Lalalalalala!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I don't own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does.**

Two hours later, the whole cowlick thing was done. America was passed out in the guest room, too tired and embarrassed to do anything, and the three people who had helped him out were in the living room, failing to create an unawkward conversation.

"So..." Arthur began, "Alfred's cowlick is... _That._"

Allen nodded. "Yeah."

Silence. Then Oliver said, "You know, it's already nine. If you want to stay, we have another guest room."

"Sure."

Oliver stood up. "I'll show you where it is."

The two left, and not three minutes later Arthur decided to go to bed. He went up to his room and locked the door. He pulled his magic book out and moved the rug on the floor, then drew a pentagram on said wood floor. He lit some candles and put each one on each point of the star. He wrote himself a note and put it on his bed. What he was doing was for America's happiness- he was positive that when the loud American woke up he wouldn't like having people know about the event that happened. So if no one remembered, it was fine, right? Other than the fact that Allen would just appear in the house out of no where..

He pulled a black cloak over his outfit and began searching his book for a spell that would erase select memories from several people's minds.

'**_Erasing Memories_**', the text read. Arthur looked over it, then said in a clear voice,

"**_Ut ipsam memoriam,_**

**_Ab illis qui elegi_**

**_Oliver, Allen, Alfred,_**

**_et me,_**

**_ut lateret in perpetuum_**

**_venenatis id, nisi ad recipiendum_**** illam."**

Once more the feeling of magic being used on him surrounded Arthur, calming him. He felt the memory of that night begin to fade away, and before he knew it, he was in a cloak, next to a pentagram, with no memory of why he was there or what he was doing. He looked around frantically, until he spied a note on his bed. He walked over to it and read the cursive hand-writing. His writing.

'_Dear Arthur,_

_ This is you. You probably don't remember what happened tonight, or why you're standing in a magic circle. Well, something embarrassing happened to Alfred and I felt like being nice and erasing everyone's memories of the event. That's it. Don't worry._

_ Sincerly, Arthur_'

Britain sighed, feeling very fortunate that it was just that. He crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it away, then drenched the candles and put them in his backpack. After that he pulled his rug over the pentagram, and sat down on his bed. Seriously, the things he did for America's happiness...

Meanwhile...

Allen looked around, then spied Oliver. How had he gotten there? And why was he so worn out? Seriously, it felt like he had just held someone down for hours.. Oliver looked just as confused as he felt.

On the other hand, they were both in a bedroom with a shut door. He grinned. '_This could get fun...'_

The next morning, the 2ps in the Kirkland household woke up in a very messy bed. But that's beside the point.

Alfred woke up with every muscle in his body screaming, like he had put more strain on his muscles than he had ever before. A knock on his door made him realize that he did not want to get up. "Yeah? Come in!" he called.

The door opened to reveal... Arthur. "Twat, it's already two! Get up!"

"Awww... But I hurt..."

Arthur seemed genuinely curious. "Where?"

"_Everywhere!_"

"That's elaborate." Arthur snorted.

He walked over to the American and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Is there a specific area that hurts more than the rest?"

There was. But Alfred wasn't about to tell Arthur where. "No.."

"You're a horrible liar." England laughed.

"S-shut it."

"Ouch. Vicious, aren't you?"

"Quit laughing, dammit!"

"I'm not laughing.." England lied, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Jerk.." America whined.

"So where is it? And what did you do to get it to hurt?"

"I... Don't actually remember. Do you remember anything about last night? I can recall you throwing stuff at me, but you never hit me. Everything after that is black."

"Me, too. Maybe Oliver knows?"

"Let's go find out."

"Okay." Arthur began to walk out of the room, only to stop when Alfred called out his name.

"I need help getting up."

"What? Why?"

"I'm too sore to do anything by myself!"

"Wanker!"

"I do not!"

"How else would you get so sore when no one else is?!"

Silence. Then... "..Just help me up."

"Yeah, yeah." Britain smirked. He grabbed Alfred's arm and yanked him up, a tad harder than necessary.

"Ow! Arthur, that was cruel!"

"Suck it."

"No, thanks. You have a hamburger, instead?"

Britain whirled around and punched him in the face. "Twat, quit with the definitions!"

"But I'm a boy..." Alfred smirked, getting up like it was nothing.

"Anymore and you won't be!"

"Ouch!" America laughed, "That was a blow below the belt!"

"Idiot, we're here." he addressed Alfred, and knocked on Oliver's door. No answer. "That's wierd- he's normally up by now." He knocked again. No answer. "Oliver, we're coming in!" he called, then opened the door. No one was there.

They heard shuffling upstairs. Alfred pointed upstairs, then mouthed, '_Let's go._'

Arthur nodded. They silently went up, tracking the noise to one of the guest rooms. It sounded like two people were talking. Theives? Murdrers? Oliver-nappers (**Author: Get it? Kidnappers, petnappers, Olivernappers? Hahahaha- I'll shut up now...**)? In a way, it _was_ an Olivernapper. One that had stolen his heart.

America readied his gun, which literally seemed to come out of nowhere, and threw the door open. He and Arthur went in, prepared for a fight, only to have their eyes want to commit suicide. The sight before them was like no other- Allen was on top of Oliver, who looked close to tears, with his arms wrapped around the American 2p. The two jumped apart and pulled the covers over themselves, blushing. "Arthur!" Oliver cried out, "Didn't I teach you manners- you knock first!"

The two 1ps stood there, dumbfounded. Then America asked, knowing the answer but hoping that it was just a huge misunderstanding, "What... Were you guys doing?"

Arthur left the room, unable to see any more. What the Hell?! He was worried that something bad had happened to his guardian when he was just fucking in the next room! Alfred left then, too, making sure to shut the door tightly. He caught up to Britain. They decided to get dressed and leave the house.

15 minutes later, they were on a walk, bundled up in clothes to keep them warm. "...I'll never get that image out of my mind.. What was he even doing there?"

Arthur figured he should be polite and ask even if he knew the answer. "... You know him?"

"Yeah... He's my brother! How the Hell did he get into you house?"

"..."

"That's a massive age difference...Your dad and my brother.."

"Yeah..."

Secretly they were both blushing harder than they let the other know- those were their 2ps! If they were fucking, obviously something was going on between them.. And 1p's wars didn't change because you were a 2p. If your 1p was fighting someone, the 2p was fighting, too. Did that count for emotions? They both hoped so. That meant that the other liked him back!

**Vocabulary Time! :**

**Wanker- someone who masturbates**

**Twat- women's genitals**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hetalia is owned by Hidekaz Himaruya, not me. I own nothing except the story (and I'm aware of the fact that it sucks.).**

When Arthur and Alfred got back, their 2ps were in the living room, fully dressed. Thankfully. Allen looked up, but Oliver stared at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet. "What took you so long?" Allen asked, eyes narrowed.

"None ya'."

"What?"

"None. Of. Your. Buisness." Alfred clarified venomously.

"..Why...?" Arthur began, but dropped off due to the awkwardness of the question.

Oliver gave no answer, a light blush brushing his cheeks. Allen didn't seem to want to answer, either. They slowly looked at each other, then looked away. Oliver spoke first. "...W-well... You s-see, we were in... A... Room t-togeth-ther... And neither o-of us knew how we got there, so... One thing turned into another... And we just..."

"That's like asking someone why they didn't turn in their homework- it's because they felt like it." Allen said.

I could see the irkmarks growing on 1p!America's head. "So why didn't you do it when we weren't _in the house?_"

"Heheh... Because we didn't want to wait that long?" Allen tried.

"You bastard!" America picked the closest thing he could reach and threw it at his 'brother'. You can imagine his surprise when he saw Oliver ram into Allen, knocking him over. Seconds later, two knives hit the wall, right where Allen had been.

"Wha...?" Arthur asked.

"I was sharpening knives before you came in... I shouldn't have left them there... Oh, Allen! So sorry, are you alright?" Oliver jumped up off of Allen and tried to help him up. When he finally did succeed, Allen was a little pissed.

"What the Hell, Alfred? Are you so stupid you didn't notice the fact that you were throwing knives?" he yelled.

"Maybe I wanted to throw them at you."

"That was the worst lie I have ever heard! Idiot, I know when you lie! Everyone does! It _vibes_ off of you!"

"Brother, dear, should we really be talking? If we were to fight with our fists, I think that that'd be a much better option."

"You _think?_ Wow! It's a miracle, Oliver! He can think! He's almost a real boy!"

Alfred smirked, a dark aura surrounding him. "You're avoiding the real answer. Maybe because you know that you'd lose?"

"Ha! No- I could beat you anyday!"

"How about today? Right here, right now."

"Done-"

"Not so fast!" Oliver stood inbetween them, hands out-stretched. "Take this to the backyard! I don't want to spend thousands of dollars repairing what you two break!"

Alfred and Allen all but ran into the backyard, Arthur and Oliver following them. The two Britains stood in the doorway, watching. Oliver pulled out a camera, and began video-taping it. "Black-mail." he clarified when Arthur gave him a strange look. They both knew who would win.

"No weapons!" Oliver called out.

1p!America and 2p!America stood there for a moment, then lunged at each other. It seemed to be a game of chicken, and 2p dodged just as they were about to collide. Unfortunitly (for Allen, since Alfred was loving it), 1p used this to his advantage and brought his knee up, jabbing his 2ps gut.

Allen and Alfred backed away from each other, 2p needing a moment to catch his breath, 1p waiting for him to give up (and die, but then 1p would die, too. Darn.). Within two seconds, they were back fighting, 2p throwing kicks and 1p blocking them easily. He didn't fight back yet, though, and everyone knew that he was doing so out of amusement. He knew that he could win, hands-down. But this was funny.

Allen attacked again, and was blocked again. He, being relatively smart, knew that he couldn't win just by attacking him head-on; his 1p was too strong for that. Stupid meat-eater. So he had come up with a plan, the one he had had since it was clear that there was going to be a fight.

1p!America wouldn't wear out easily, and he was holding back, storing even more of his energy. But a few well-placed kicks would do _just fine._

Allen lunged again, hoping to make the naturally oblivious nation think that he was falling for his so-called 'plan'. Which consisted of wearing Allen out. _'Well, too bad, Alfred. I'm not stupid!'_

When Allen saw an opening, he quickly changed the direction of his kick- right into the place where the sun doesn't shine. And when 1p!America doubled over in pain, Allen elbowed him to the ground. Something he didn't take into consideration was that, as he was falling to the ground, Alfred shot a hand out and 'lightly' punched Allen's. (**Read: **It was lightly for 1p!America! Allthough it still hurt as much as Allen's kick did.. It's better than having it fall off because 1p!America used his full strength!)

The two Britains stopped the video-tape when it was clear that neither of them was going to get up anytime soon. They looked at each other, not expecting it to have ended that way. Then, as Oliver put the camera away so the other countries didn't know that they had recorded it, Arthur gave him a look that said, '**_Send me that_**** video.**'

Oliver smirked, nodded, and went out to help Alfred's 'brother' up. Arthur decided to do the same. But with Alfred, not his 'brother'. And, insted of doing it gently, like Oliver did, Arthur kicked Alfred's seemingly dead body, which was face-down in the mud. "Get up, wanker."

1p!America rolled over. His expression was one of pain. "That was cruel, Allen.."

"Yeah?" 1p!Britain heard Allen ask, his voice obviously in a lot of pain. "Well I wouldn't have done it if I knew that you were going to do the same thing!"

"Bastard!"

"Oh, shut it." Arthur grumbled, pulling Alfred's arm over his shoulder.

As 1p!Britain lay in bed that night, replaying the day's event, a voice in his head suddenly spoke.

'_Is this what you've become?'_

Arthur sat up, looking around with wide eyes. "What?"

'_Wollowing in the past and then just forgetting eveything that people have done to you?'_ it sounded like... His voice. Except darker. More evil. Arthur had a bad feeling about this..


	20. Chapter 20

**I do not own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does!**

**Re-cap: **_'Wollowing in the past and then just forgetting everything that people have done to you?_' it sounded like... His voice. But darker. More evil. Arthur had a bad feeling about this..

"What do you mean? Who are you?" Arthur asked, worried.

_'Everything that everyone has done to you... You just forget it, like they never stabbed you in the back. Like they never hurt you in ways that they could never possibly imagine.'_

"W-what do you mean? Everything that everyone has done to me? But they haven't done anything."

_'You poor thing... You couldn't have forgotten so soon?'_

"Forgotten what? What have I forgotten?" Arthur began looking around, searching for the voice's owner .

_'You won't find me.'_

"And why the bloody Hell not?"

_'That's beside the point, Arthur. You're looking at the small details- you need to look at the big picture. See, that's your problem. It's why you're always pushed over and stepped on.'_

"Wh... What? I don't have a bloody problem!"

_'Yes, you do. And your problem is that you're too nice.'_

Arthur's head filled with images from him being evil. He chuckled bitterly. "I'm not quite sure that I'd call myself too nice for my own good."

_'No, you're not the nicest when you look at the details. But look at the big picture, Arthur.'_

"The big picture?"

_'You've forgotten more than you seem to think. Just because you have your memories back doesn't mean that you can see clearly. And I'm here to help you do just that.'_

"That's a villain's line."

Suddenly, banging was heard on the door. "Arthur?" Alfred called loudly. "Who're ya talking to?"

Arthur's head was then stuffed full of images from the Revolution. He didn't want them- he tried dispersing them, but they wouldn't go away! The love at the begining, the anger in the middle, the heart-break in the end. The heart-breaking scenes were the longest by far, shoving the emotions he felt long ago into his face and forcing it down his throat. Arthur tried to tell the voice to stop it. "Quit it!" he whispered. "I don't need that right now!"

_'He left you. You cared for him, supported him, helped him, and he left you lying in the cold mud. He's a back-stabber. Then he goes over to your house and acts like it never happened. You two are closer than ever. But it's fake, and you know it. He treats you like you're stupid. He says that he's the hero and you're his back-up. He doesn't trust you and your abilities.'_

"Arthur?" America called, louder this time.

"A... Backstabber?" he whispered. A glaze seemed to fall over his eyes.

_'Yes. You shouldn't trust him... You'll just end up getting hurt.'_

"And... What about the others?" he murmured softly.

_'All against you. If they were truly there for you until the end, they would have been your shoulder to cry on already.'_

"W-what about France?"

_'Doesn't like you. He fights with you all the time. Good friends don't do that.'_

"Oliver?"

_'He's your 2p! He'd kill you in an instant if he could.'_

"Japan?"

_'He's silent, but he could protect you. Yet he doesn't.'_

"Why are you telling me all of this? Just to make me feel alone?"

_'No. I'm telling you because someone has to before it's too late. Once you go down that road of false trust, there's not many ways to come back. You're lucky I found you.'_

"Thank you." Arthur said, as if he were in a daze. Like mind-control.

_'One thing, though.'_

"Yes?"

_'The others.. They don't like me. If they knew that I was helping you out, they wouldn't hang around you. And you hanging around them is part of our plan. So you can't tell anyone about me!'_

"A... Plan?"

_'First promise not to tell! If they tell someone with magic that I'm here, they could kill me!'_

"... I promise. Now, what about the plan?"

_'Ah. It's a wonderful plan. One that will get everyone that's ever hurt you back. Not revenge, just you taking back what's yours.'_

"That's mine? What have they taken?"

_'Your happiness, dear Arthur.'_

"But I'm perfectly happy here."

_'That's what they want you to think.'_

"Who're they? And who are you?"

_'Two brilliant questions. They are everyone who has ever harmed you, and anyone who's ever done wrong to you. And I... Well, you'll find out soon enough. For now, call me Alex.'_

"Okay, Alex. What first? What should we do first?"

The door was kicked down, and three people ran in, Alfred in the lead. "Arthur! What's wrong? You weren't responding, but we heard you talking!"

Arthur's head snapped to the doorway. He narrowed his eyes and jumped up. "Bloody Hell, Alfred! If someone doesn't answer, maybe they don't want to talk to you!"

"But you were talking to _someone_! We heard you!" Alfred cried.

"My bloody phone! Don't just barge in!"

"I-I'm sorry, dude. But I thought that you were in trouble.."

Allen picked something up. "Your phone's over here."

_'Tell them that you were just thinking aloud.'_

"I was thinking aloud! Get out!" he hissed.

"Why don't you want to talk to Alfred?" Oliver asked.

"Because he's annoying! I didn't want to deal with him this late at night." Arthur growled. "But I had to anyway!"

"Okay, okay, I got the hint! We're leaving!" Alfred raised his hands in an 'I-surrender' pose, and left the room. Allen followed him, and soon after that Oliver left. The door was still kicked down.

_'Wankers. They don't trust you enough to leave you alone! It's worse than I thought.'_

Arthur didn't respond.

_'Here, I have an idea. Put the door back up, then stuff pillows under the bed's blanket so it looks like you're sleeping.'_

"Huh? Why?"

_'Because we're going for a walk.'_

"Uhm... Okay." Arthur did as he was told. "Why?"

_'I need you to do something. Don't worry, it'll be easy.'_

"What do you need? And how will we leave without everyone else knowing?"

_'Go through the window. Leave a ruler in the crack so we can get back in.'_ the voice said, ignoring his first question.

Arthur grabbed a ruler, opened his window, climbed out, stepping on the windowsill, and closed the window on the ruler, leaving a crack open. Not enough for anyone to notice unless they were looking directly at it.

_'Now climb down.'_

Arthur dropped to a crouch, putting his hands on the edge of the sill and jumping down. From there, he jumped down landed in the garden in front of the house. He immediatly slid onto his stomache, knowing that Oliver would have seen something and would be looking out the window, waiting to see it properly.

Two minutes later, when Arthur knew that it was safe, he began army-crawling to the side of the house. Once he was there, he stood up and sprinted six houses away. "What now?"

_'I know someone who can help you do what you need to do. Follow my instructions to the letter:'_

Arthur walked down the stairs, into a dark ally. He found the door labeled 1756 and knocked. Much to his surprise, a little girl answered. She looked around 11. "Hello? What can I do for you?"

"Hello, is there a Carter Johnson living here?"

Recognition flashed in her eyes, and she grinned, her eyes taking on a darker look. "Password, please?"

_'Tell her that it's Alex.'_

"It's Alex."

Her eyes widened. "Alex?" she breathed. "Come in!"

She pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. "Did you come here for what I think you did?"

Arthur smiled. "Were you saved, too? By Alex?"

"Saved..?" she asked, confused. Then her eyes lit up. "Oh! Yes, I was."

_'Tell her that we're here for the O.G.'_

"I'm here for the O.G.?"

The girl grinned even wider. "Come with me."

She led them down a long hall. At the end of said hall was a secret door in the floor. She opened it and revealed stairs leading down. The two went downstairs, into an old-fashioned, stereotypical dungeon. Inside, she went into one of the chambers and pulled an old key from the floor, located in one of the far corners. She left, going down one of the many hallways next to the dungeon. Arthur followed, confused.

She stopped in front of a door with no name or number, and unlocked it with a key that she pulled from her pocket. She stepped inside, motioning for Arthur to do the same. Once in, the girl rushed over to the far left corner and started pulling bricks out of the wall. She had pulled out seven before she stopped, and reached a hand in. She pulled out a large trunk, setting it gently on the floor.

Then she got the key that she had retrieved from the dungeon earlier and used it to unlock the trunk. She slowly opened it, grinning gleefully. "Are you ready?" she asked Arthur. He nodded, not entirely sure that he wanted to do this.

Then the brunett pulled out an outfit. It was a black tank-top, with a long black coat that had a hood and went to Arthur's calves, and black skinny jeans. Next she pulled out black leather boots, dark sunglasses, and a chain.

"What? Am I suppossed to change into those? Why the chain?" Britain asked.

"It'll make you look hot! You're going to be playing the guitar in public, so you can't not look cute! That won't draw a crowd." she giggled.

"A... Crowd? I am?"

"Yup! That's the favor that Alex asked of you, right? To do something for him. That something is to go out every night and play the music that comes to you head while wearing this outfit!"

"Alex, is this true?" he murmured.

_'Yes. I'll tell you what to play, and you'll play it.'_

"Why?"

"Because playing the music is the only way to help you see the world the way it is. It opens your eyes, kind of like breaking a magic spell. The world is the spell, and the song is the thing getting rid of it for you." the girl smiled.

_'Exactly.'_

"I never caught your name. Mine's Arthur."

"Hello, Arthur! My name is Brenna."

"Hello, Brenna. Well, I guess I had better get changed into this." he gestured to the clothes.

"Okay, I'll leave you to change in peace." Brenna left the room.


	21. Chapter 21

_I don't own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does!_

Arthur felt really awkward as he stood there, looking like a punk, holding a guitar, under a streetlight. People passing by him were giving him dirty looks, and he was tired.

**'As soon as you finish, you can go to sleep.'**

That got Britain motivated. He thought really hard, thinking of music, and finally came across a tune. It was strange; Arthur didn't recognize it, but it sounded so familiar!

He started strumming the guitar, the tune coming to him bits at a time. (- THAT'S THE SONG!)

As he played, people stopped giving him dirty looks. They became angry, then annoyed, then curious. Soon after that he was being cheered on, people stopping and video-taping him. A wonderful rushing feeling went through him, and, just as Brenna said he would, he began to see the world a different way.

He blinked, and, instead of people, when he opened his eyes he saw white souls, white that slouched and had evil eyes. They glared at each other and fought using their eyes, and not one of them was happy. More people came, and more fighting came. They flung horrible insults at each other, like they didn't care if that person dropped dead right then.

**'It's fine, continue playing. This is what the world really is.'** the voice told him.

Arthur was unnerved, but he continued playing.

Eventually, everyone left, and Britain was all alone, still playing the guitar. It was weird- for every song he played, he felt like he was being chained down even more than the previous song. "Why is that, Alex?" he asked.

**'Your body is not used to seeing everything as it is. Play one more song, then you can go home.'**

"Okay..." he played another song, feeling as if his very essence was being conquered as he did so.

Then he strummed the last note, and he was transferred to a room. He wasn't wearing what he had been, he was wearing a formal green outfit, the one he always wore to the world meetings. The guitar was gone, and he could see one side of the wall that looked like a big t.v.

"What..? Alex? Alex, what is this?" he called out.

He heard cackling. Then he spoke, "Did you really think that the darkness would leave you alone?"

Realization hit him, full-on. "You tricked me!"

"Right into playing a demon's song! The very one that let's me take over your body! How stupid can you get?"

"Alex, let me out! I demand that you let me out! Why do you want control over my body?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

"I'm going to have fun, Arthur! For centuries, I was trapped in your head, and now I'm free!"

"What do you mean by, 'fun'?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

"You'll see!"

He began to walk, and Britain could see everything that Alex saw. Before long, Arthur knew where he was going. "The school was destroyed! Why do you want to go there?"

"Oh, you stupid fool! They just told you that so Alfred could stay with you! They're trying to get you to remember."

"But I already remember my past."

"They don't know that!"

He walked right in the double doors, straight into the office. For some strange reason, everyone was there. "Everyone! I have an announcement!" he yelled. Everyone turned to him, surprised.

"I remember!" he pulled out a gun. "And now it's payback time."

He started shooting France. He shot him three times before moving on to Spain. He got one shot in before someone hit him over the head and he blacked out.

"Yeah, just came in and started shooting people. France and Spain are in the hospital! What happened?" Germany asked.

"He said he remembered?" Oliver repeated.

"Yes."

"Then there's a risk that Alex came back, too."

"Who the heck is Alex?" America asked.

"Alex is... Well... He's my instinct. He's what makes me have the urdge to kill, the urdge to destroy everything in my path. He's what used to keep me alive. Theodore was Arthur's instinct, as a 1p, and Theodore's job was to make sure that Arthur's instinct was to be good, to help people. Alex and Theodore somehow got switched a few months before Arthur started thinking about suicide because of guilt. What I think happened was Alex pretended to be Theodore, and kept reminding him about the American revolution. Alex wanted to trick Arthur into thinking that everyone but him was against him, so he could gain control over his body easier, but Arthur didn't do what Alex had planned: instead of being angry, he felt guilty. He thought that he was in the blame, that it was solely his fault, when in fact, it was both of you that caused that to happen. Anyway, it became so bad that Norway and Romania were forced to do what they thought was best, and Alex left Arthur alone for a while. But when he figured out that Arthur remembered everything except him, he decided to have some fun; he's been trapped in Arthur's head for a long time now, he's bound to have had the urdge to destroy. And because I wasn't there to help him release that anger, it's all bottled up. And now he can let it loose." Oliver explained. "He'll do anything he wants. He's unpredictable, and that makes him even more dangerous than normal."

"Question: how come we don't have one?" Germany asked.

"We do. It's just that yours aren't switched like ours are."

"Is that why he was talking to himself last night?" Alfred asked.

"No, he was talking to his other demons!" Allen said sarcastically.

"You wan'na go? Right now? 'Cause I remember you just barely getting out of the last fight we had!"

"I would've won had you not copied me! And yeah, let's fight! Bring it on- you won't win!"

"Is that a challenge?" Alfred asked cockilly.

"Ye-"

Germany slammed his fists on the table. "Shut up! We are in a meeting discussing what happenes to the person you love, and the person your 2p love's 1p! The fact that you are arguing about the most unimportant things shows no respect and tells me that you need to get your priorities straight!"

"He's awake." Oliver said suddenly.

Everyone (Germany, Oliver, Allen, and Alfred) looked to the end of the table, where Arthur sat, chained to a chair in the middle of a pentagram. He was obviously awake, and glarring daggers at Germany. "You know... You always pissed both me and England off over the years when you did that. Who made you the country in charge? It's not power, because I seem to remember Russia giving you a smack-down in WWll. So is it just your need for power and control, or sexual tension?"

Germany glarred back at him. "I am the only one who has any self control around here. You guys are too immature for your own good."

"Yes, but see how much good it did Arthur? He ended up trapped inside his own head, a prisoner by his own mind. Had he used self-control, I would have been the one controlling him. That was his way of protecting you guys... Ha! It didn't work, did it, Arthur?"

'**You're a sick, demented bastard, Alex!'**

Alex laughed again. "Yes, yes I am. Thank you for noticing." his expression turned serious, a glare masking his features. "Now... How about you let me go? As much as I'd love to destroy you all, I have to go meet someone..."

"Like Hell, Alex. As soon as Norway and Romania get here, you're going bye-bye!" 1p!America yelled. His 2p hit him over the head, causing Germany and Oliver to look away form Alex.

"Idiot, you told him what we're going to do!"

"So? It's not like hae can escape or anything!" they looked back, just to make sure that Alex was still there.

To their dismay, he was nowhere to be found, the chains used to hold him scattered uselessly around the chair, the pentagram used to keep him in place broken and rendered useless.

_I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, I HAD A SEVERE CASE OF WRITER'S BLOCK AND I WAS WORKING ON ANOTHER STORY, WHICH I DON'T HAVE WRITER'S BLOCK ON AND I REMEMBERED THAT I STILL HAD A STORY EARLIER TODAY AND I FELT SO BAD FOR DITCHING YOU GUYS, SO AGAIN I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! But here it is now~_

_If anyone here is angry at me (Not that I expect anyone to care enough about this story to be angry that I didn't update... -_-"), I am SO sorry for not updating!_


	22. Chapter 22

I_ do NOT own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himaruya does._

Alex slipped down the street, being more silent than a ninja. The others would know he was gone, there was no doubt in his mind, but he had to get to Brenna's house before they found him... He thought back to when he had just tricked Theodore into switching minds with him.. He had said that he could change the way Oliver was if he was in Oliver's mind, stop him from killing and terrorizing people. In reality, he knew that Oliver would never stop, and he wanted to corrupt Arthur. See, Arthur had immence magical abilities, more so than both Norway and Romania combined; if he could get into and control Arthur's body, there was nothing that could stop him from corrupting every countries' minds, turning them all into his minions! The world would be ruled by him. The only problem was, Arthur turned to guilt instead of anger. When Norway and Romania turned him into a little kid and sent him to an orphanage, I decided to leave him alone. But not really.

At night, when he was asleep, I would secretly take control over his body and go visit someone- a girl. She was in third grade, and she was the nicest person I had ever met; everyone came to her when they had a problem, and she would comfort them and make them feel better. She was as close to a saint as I would ever meet; I knew that someone that had an instinct like hers would have the 2p instinct of the devil herself. The 2p instinct would be able to help me when Arthur was ready. I visited her every night and talked to her. She never screamed or panicked when she saw me, not even the first time I came, she just tried to help me, and never told the people she trusted about me. Before long, I had made her 2p instict come out, and it was glorious. Carter Johnson, that was her 2p's instinct's name. It took a lot of effort, I had to give her a pentagram necklace so I could practice on nights when she couldn't see me, but soon I had switched her instincts, and she became a **very** hateful person. The only person she liked was me, and by then I had told her instinct the secret, on the condition that she never told Arthur should she see him randomly on the streets.

She helped a lot, at the cost of her happiness. She became so horrible that her parents and friends grew tired of her, and they kicked her to the streets. Not wanting her to go to the orohanage in case she slipped up with Arthur, I provided her a home, food, and education.

Ahh, I was here. I opened the door, not bothering to knock, and I was met with an ecstatic Carter. "Did it work, did it work? Can you rule the world now?"

I grinned, messing with her hair because she was like a younger sister to me. "Yeah, it worked, but they'll be looking for me. They could be able to trace it back to you, so we're going on a little trip, just like I promised." I opened a portal, making sure to make the destination after mine random so they couldn't track us. I grabbed her hand and went through the portal, ending up in...

I didn't know... Was it Canididy? Canidallia? No, it was Canaadial. "Are we in Canada?" Carter asked.

Ah! It was Canada! "How'd you know?" I asked.

She pointed to a sign. I resisted the urdge to face-palm at my stupidity. "So what now?" she asked.

"We pick up a life here, get close to Canada the person, and trick him into drinking a certain potion you made. The one that traps them and lets out their 2p instinct. Brilliant job on that, by the way."

"Thanks." she said, admiring me like always.

"Your welcome."

"So now we go find that Canada guy? I wonder where he is."

"Me, too." we walked off, going to the nearest city.

"M-maple..!" I stuttered. I had heard the whole thing! I had seen them teleport right in front of me, and I had begun to ask them if everything was okay, but they hadn't seen me! I guess it was a good thing in this case... I pulled out my cell phone and called America.

"Yo, dude this isn't a good time!" he answered.

"America, Britain and some girl are trying to kidnap me! They said something about bringing out my 2p's instinct? Maple! You have to come help me!"

"... What? Repeat that, now the phone's on speaker."

"Britain and a little girl are trying to bring out my 2p's instinct! I don't know what that means, but if my 2p's involved, it can't be good! You know they're evil, Alfred! Come save me!"

"Hey! Just because we're involved doesn't mean that the situation is bad!" the guy I recognized as America's 2p snapped.

Despite being nervous now that someone was angry at me, I managed to quiver, "So the situation isn't bad?"

".. I didn't say that."

"Al!"

"Shut up! We'll be there in a little bit, whatever you do, don't go near them again! Jasper would blame me if he turned into you because of your instinct.."

"O-ok.."


	23. Chapter 23

**I do not own Hetalia, Hidekaz Himaruya** **does.**

America, Germany, Canada, Oliver, and Allen silently surrounded the premises where they believed Arthur and the little girl to be. It was a quaint little house, something you'd find in a fairytale. Armed to the teeth, the countries' only goal was to get Alex and the other girl's 2p instinct out of them. Oliver had immediately thought of the fact that, once his instinct was back, he'd go on a killing spree, so he told the others to leave him alone for a few days (or weeks) to 'adjust, because the process will be painful for me'. Secretly, he had pulled Allen aside and told him the truth. And he, being the loyalist the idiot was, had promised to stay on his side regardless.

America heard nothing, and soon it was dark. No lights were on, and the cabin showed no signs of life. It hadn't at all, not since they had gotten and surrounded it. Allen, stiff from crouching for who-knows-how-long, stood up and stretched, yawning. America resisted the urge to punch him. This was suposed to be a stake out! You don't stand up and yawn at a stake out!

Allen caught his eye, expression emotionless. "Oi, stupid, we've been here for hours, and no sign of life has made itself known. Let's go, they're not here."

"I thought you said you were smart? They could be waiting for us to let our guard down. Suck it up and get back in position."

Something flashed in Allen's eyes. "No, we've been here for hours! If they come out, and we're too tired to do anything, they could switch our instincts and we wouldn't be able to do anything!"

America stood up. "You idiot! You're a soldier, you've been through worse- I know you have!"

"Regardless of that, it's been a long time sonce then!"

"Well, if you want Oliver's 1p to switch personalities with him, then I'd be attracted to who? The one with the personality or the one with the looks?"

"One, I thought you were stupid. Two, we're loyalists, of course you'll go for the personality. Three, then I'd go for Arthur." he growled.

Oliver stood up, offended. "So sorry, could you repeat what you said? Just that last part."

"Shit. Oliver, you know what I meant!"

"It doesn't matter what you meant, it's how the other person took it that matters!"

"I'm sorry!"

"So you should be!"

"Don't be like that!"

Alfred smirked, knowing that his 2p had just gotten himself whipped. "Dude, you better apologize before his instinct puts him in a really bad mood."

"Don't call me 'dude'." he turned to Oliver. "What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

He sniffed in disdain. "If you really have to ask, you don't really care enough to pay attention other than when your life's at risk."

"You know that's not true." he glared at Oliver. "Quit being a brat."

"Oh, and now you're calling me names."

Allen walked over to Oliver. "Oliver, you idiot," he knelt down and pulled something ot of his pocket. "you know I'm shit at this, and I'm not a romantic person. But will you marry me anyway?"

Oliver hit him over the head. Allen slunk back, and Alfred laughed at the rejection. At least, until Oliver smirked and said, "Wanna know a secret?"

"..Not really.."

"Too bad. I already knew you were going to do that, and I already knew my answer: yes."

Allen instantly brightened, but then gave him a questioning look. "How'd ya know?"

"That time I refused to see you for a week? And when you bust the door down, I was crying?"

"It was my own house, and you locked me out. Yeah?"

"I found it in your video games, with my name on the nside of the box."

He deadpanned. "How could I have been so stupid? I gave it away!"

Alfred laughed. "Idiot! Ha, Arthur still hasn't found his ye-"

He cut himself off, silent now that his secret had been given away. Allen was staring at him, shocked, and Oliver was glaring daggers at him, a feeling of protectiveness for Arthur coming from raising him for a few years. Allen shrugged, hugged Oliver, and Alfred grinned sheepishly, a blush on his features.

All of a sudden, a black light flashed around them, and soon engulfed them. They all heard a cruel chuckle. "Hasn't your mother taught you manners? It's rude to not share! Let the instincts come out and play~"

**. ! See, I just had to add the period, or the story wouldn't have felt complete to me! .! .! .! Anyway, this will probably be the shortest chapter. It has been so far! Sorry for not updating, I'm writing a personal story and several one-shots. *Shrugs***


	24. Chapter 24

**Dudes. I don't own Hetalia. Why would you even think that?**

**BY THE WAY! I don't know which one I've been telling you is 2p!America, but I may have been switching off, so I'd like to say, both Allen and Jackson are 2p!America. Sorry about that.**

A black light engulfed them, startling them out of their conversation. Alex's voice cackled, and Alfred couldn't help but to snort. The black light fazed little bit and there was a pause. "Did.. You just snort? At me?"

Alfred tried to contain his laughter, but failed. "U-um... Yeah, dude. You cackled. That is SO cliche. Like, seriously, man. I never knew Oliver was the stereotyped villain."

The light fazed again. "What is wrong with you?! I am not!"

Alfred raised his hands in the air and smirked. "Okay, whatever you say. You didn't have to get defensive."

Allen gave him a glare that should have shut him up, but didn't. Alex growled, "Why does Arthur love you? You're an annoying brat. _My _Alfie, however, is worthy of love. And I fully intend on getting him out of you, Allen."

Oliver's face paled. The thought of an Allen like Alfred was... Not appealing. "Britain... Loves me?"

Oh, crap. Britain hadn't told Alfred, yet, had he? Allen hit him over the head (weakly, of course). "What did you think? Oliver and I l-l... Liiiiiiii-... Ke. Like. Each other. Why would that change for you two?"

Oliver sighed. While America normally had no trouble confessing and stuff, it had taken Allen several years PLUS an oppertunity to rape him before he finally admitted his feelings. Alfred pouted.

"How was I suposed to know that? For all I knew, it could have meant that Iggy hated me!" he whined.

"Oi! Bloody wankers, pay attention to me! I'm a part of this conversation, too!" Alex whined, his menacing voice not so menacing anymore. Allen suddenly furrowed his stupid eyebrows and looked around. They were in a room. It was just a black room, with no end or begining in sight. In fact, all they could see was each other. Alex, the house, the forest, they were all gone.

"Where are we?" he asked, "And where's Germany and Canada?"

The only reason he remembered the Canadian nation was because he remembered all too well what happened last time. He hadn't been able to walk for a week. And, personally, he blamed Alfred for him being so fucking weak. Seriously, he had inhuman strength while Allen barely had enough to pin someone down.

"What? There's mooooore?" the voice groaned. "Dang it! I promised I'd relax this week! Geez!"

He almost sounded... Like an annoyed teenager. And everyone noticed. In fact, Oliver had come up with a plan. He grinned, finally figuring out where they were. How had it taken him so long to figure it out? "Alex?"

"No."

"What- you haven't even heard me out!"

"I don't need to! You're just going to scold me about how I'm a horrible person and all that bla."

"No, I intend on keeping you distracted while in reality you're being tied up."

"What?!" he screeched. Almost instantly, everyone was back in reality, on the floor. They were gathered together and Canada was sitting next to them, fanning them with a large leaf.

"M-maple! Are you guys alrigh-"

"DUDE! How had you known we weren't in reality? Where were we?" America cut him off. Allen cringed, as if waiting for something to happen as he looked at Canada, who sighed and went to sit in an emo corner.

"Easy enough." Oliver replied. "The room that we were in is the same room I murder people in my dreams in. That meant that we were in my head, or rather, Alex's head."

They stared at him for a while, Oliver smiling creepily (not unlike Russia, in case you were wondering.). Allen was the first to recover. "So.. Why did you tell him that he was being tied up? How had you known?"

Oliver turned to Matthew. "Canada, where's Germany?"

"U-um! You noticed me! Maple! Well that was unexpected, eh, Kumajittio?" he asked his small polar bear, Kumajiro. He ignored the, "Who're you?", and said, "Germany went inside to look for Arthur and the little girl."

Oliver smiled. "Just as I thought! By now, Germany should have found him and proceded to tie him up."

Allen smirked, rubbing Oliver's head and messing his hair up. "Wow! You maaged to figure that out before me! Good job."

"Poppet, don't make me hurt you."

The hand was lowered and put back in his jacket. Alfred smirked, running inside and looking around for Arthur and the former Nazi. He found them in a bedroom, and, sure enough, Arthur was tied up, screaming profanities.

They sat there, rather awkwardly, as Britain continued to scream. Neither really wanted to touch him, to be honest.. He was really creepy. Soon, Oliver, Allen, and Canollies walked into the room. Oliver looked at his 1p for a second before crouching down next to him.

"Alex?" he asked. The screaming stopped, recognizing his former master. (Not)

"Whaaaaaaat?" he sighed, dragging the word out.

"All you want is to be with Alfie, right?"

"N- T-that's none of your buisness!" Alex blushed. Allen wondered what Oliver was getting on about.

"But you can't because you switched minds with Theodore and can't see the 2ps' instincts."

"So?"

"So, instead of asking for help, you go on a rampage to bring them out."

"Is this conversation getting anywhere?"

"Yes, just hear me out." Oliver paused, as if waiting for Alex to tell him to shut up. That didn't happen. "I could send you back into my head, and you could be with him. You can't honestly tell me that you'd rather be in Arthur's head. Sure, he's weak and easy to control, but he won't kill, will he?"

A moment of hesitation. "..No. He won't."

"Will you accept my offer? I'm getting kind of tired of having Theodore in my head, Alex. I'm about ready to kill him." another sweet smile. Alex smiled. Secretly, he had missed being in Oliver's head, but he was too proud to ask to go back.

"Sure thing, peasent. Since you asked so nicely."

A few hours later, once all the magic and stuff was prepared, Oliver warned Germany and Alfred to leave the house and go do something for a few hours, though he didn't tell them why, and they did. He patted Allen on the head. "Thiat was probably the last time you'll be able to top, Allen." he admitted.

Allen sighed, knowing that that was true. "I'm aware."

"I'll be out in a few minutes. I should have enough control to get out of the country before I want to kill people again."

"Got it."

A few minutes later, they evacuated the house, leaving an unconcious brit tied to a chair in the cellar. A few hours later, Alfred and Germany got back to the house and found it empty. They also found a note stuck to Arthur's forehead: '**_Next time we meet we'll be enemies._**'

As Arthur openeed his eyes, he was met with the sight of Alfred glomping him to the floor. "Britain, don't bother pretending you don't remember your role as the U.K."

Arthur stared at him, then looked around the cellar, blushing. He had been caught.. Darn, now his fun was over. He noticed Germany leave the room. "What the bloody Hell happened?"

"Oliver put Alex back in his head and you got Theodore back. They left a note saying that next time we meet we'll be enemies." Alfred said seriously.

"Oh." regardless of all the bad things he had done, Arthur still felt a little sad that he would have to fight his parental figure. Well, what used to be his Dad. Now he was his worst enemy. He smiled softly, Alfred smiling back, and they left the house, all bad memories forgotten.

"Oh, hey, dude, I never figured out what happened so that you were like you even when you were a human and your ties to your country were erased." Alfred said. "What happened?"

"You'll never know."

Oliver and Allen sat admist a plane full of dead people. Oliver had gone on a rampage in the middle of the flight and killed everyone while Allen brought the plane down in the middle of a forest so they wouldn't crash, the pilots dead. Oliver walked into the room and smiled at Allen, who returned it.

"So sorry about that, my timing was a tad off." he grinned. Allen shrugged.

"It happens." he kissed Oliver, half expecting to get stabbed, half hoping he would still be able to top. Oliver smiled again and kissed back.

Allen's eyes widened as he was slammed into the wall. Oliver said, "Something I wasn't incorrect about?"

A pause. "You never topping again."

Allen rolled his eyes. "Glad to have you back."

"Good to be back."

**Well, I felt like I built that up and then died at the end. A fail ending, sorry.**


End file.
